


I'll Follow You Into The Flames

by otranoche



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Alternate Universe - Military, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Firefighter Liam Payne, Firefighter Niall Horan, Firefighter Zayn Malik, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Former Army Medic Zayn Malik, Islamophobia, Liam and Zayn both have hero complexes, Louis and Zayn are roommates, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mutual Pining, Niall is Zayn's guide and the Liam Whisperer, Pining, Racism, Secret Relationship, but not really?, slight PTSD, sorry about that, you could argue Harry is a figment of everyone's imagination tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:48:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 50,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28533168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otranoche/pseuds/otranoche
Summary: “Candidate Zayn Malik, I’m aware. Next time, I expect to see you arriving with everyone else on shift,” Chief Deluca cut in as he went to shake Zayn’s trembling hand. The rest of the crew looked impressed as they took in Zayn’s form. He felt himself shrinking under their lingering gazes, knowing that all eyes were on his unique appearance from his shorn hair to the various tattoos on display. “Right, Malik, this is Captain Payne, you have any questions, you can direct them to him,” the chief explained, gesturing to a figure leaned against the messy whiteboards. The man had his arms crossed as he observed Zayn with a watchful gaze.That was all it took for Zayn to feel another wave of anxiety crash over him once again. But this feeling was different. This was not first day jitters, or the stress of having to remember people’s names, this was an explosion of something more battling to cripple Zayn’s demeanor. The man, Captain Payne, was utterly gorgeous.Or;A Firefighter AU where Zayn pines and dwells on his past and Liam withholds himself before feelings override professional judgment.
Relationships: Mentions of Louis and Harry - Relationship, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 70
Kudos: 152





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my fic-- I am incredibly nervous about sharing it. I started working on this over a year ago and just recently thought to continue it. There are a few disclaimers I need to share before we hop into this:
> 
> My knowledge of the fire service comes from my own experience growing up in the department and, well, being raised on fire trucks most of my early life. However, I'm American and there are a lot of differences here that you have to suspend your disbelief for in order for this fic to work. My knowledge of the recruiting process, the academy, the shifts, all comes from the American fire department, which may look really different in the UK fire brigade. 
> 
> Roles and ranks also differ and I chose to stick to what I know. For example, the title of "captain" is used in the American fire service but they're referred to as crew managers in the London Fire Brigade (I believe). Slang words like "Probie" are used in this fic to address candidate firefighters completing their probationary period, another thing I believe may be exclusive to the American departments. 
> 
> I also have no in-depth knowledge of the British Armed Forces other than their branches (Royal Air Force and Army are referred to in this story), and their international base/station location. I mention an army base in Kabul (something I didn't want to inaccurately include in this fic without at least some research) and an RAF base in Qatar. So yes, these are some details I didn't want to get wrong.
> 
> Dispatch codes that are used are again, from my own experience, and may look very different in the London Fire Brigade. I also don't know what ethical codes/violations look like in the LFB but in the American fire service, two people in the same house cannot date (or are strongly discouraged to; screw you, Chicago Fire) or be romantically involved in any capacity while working in the same house. 
> 
> Shift changes vary by department and I'm unfamiliar with their structure in the LFB, so again, suspend your disbelief and pretend I know what I'm talking about. 
> 
> Lastly, in the department, firefighters are addressed and known by their last names, rather than reading "Niall", you'll mostly be reading "Horan". So don't be thrown off by that.
> 
> Okay, I think that's all I needed to cover beforehand. With that being said, I hope you enjoy the fic and don't be afraid to express your support. Enjoy this modern love story.

_“Get out while you still can.”_

These were the words that played on an endless loop with every waking morning and sleepless night. _Get out while you still can._ These were the final words engrained in his memory of dusty skies, ignitions in the distance, the cries of fallen soldiers, the endless amounts of blood spilling between stained fingers. These were the words that pushed him over the edge of sanity, a grasp on reality he had yet to possess. Lieutenant Wilson always raved about Malik’s composed demeanor, his lucid approach in the most chaotic milieu. Zayn Malik, combat medic for the British Army, always calm in the chaos. And that’s why his officers urged him to make a life for himself elsewhere. He had done his duty, served his country, and when the opportunity for a fourth deployment emerged, he knew his biggest battle would be the internal confrontation that came with fighting the urge to _stay,_ the imminent need for survival pulling at the thrill for escape.

 _“You got a good head on your soldiers, kid. Go use that brain of yours back home, help people who aren’t already screwed,”_ the words of his lieutenant rang constantly through his mind until Zayn found his way up and out of the rubble. The words must have risen from some sector of knowledge because here he was, standing in front of the bathroom mirror in his shared Central London flat, mentally preparing himself for a bold new chapter in a long life yet to live. Zayn was one of the lucky ones, everyone said it. He returned to Bradford from his third tour in Afghanistan with his head still screwed on straight and his heart still intact. That couldn’t be said for most medics working in the zones he occupied alongside the deteriorating numbers of his unit. It was his mother’s biggest fear when he announced his departure for a second, and then third tour. His parents shed countless tears, terrified that their bright boy would return home an empty shell of a man. Zayn was one of the lucky ones. Maybe it was his deliberate faith in something greater, or the thought that he would, _had to_ , make it out alive, that got him through each tour safely. Either way, here he was, gazing at his own reflection. He could recall the many medics he worked with slowly and tragically losing their grips on prudence with every limb lost, every explosive device set off in the distance, every life left unsaved. Zayn stood in the bathroom, gazing into his ever clear hazel orbs, grateful that he could still see the light shining through them, grateful to hear the snores of his obnoxiously loud roommate sleeping soundly in the next room.

Zayn met Louis on his first tour, he was a bright-eyed combat nurse looking to do some good for his country and perhaps for his own complacency. The two men worked closely together throughout their deployment, returning home only to keep in touch briefly. It wasn’t until Louis called Zayn about a month after his final return home that he alerted Zayn of his enrollment at the University of London and was in desperate need of a roommate. Zayn graciously accepted, using the move as an opportunity to start over and leave behind a chapter of psychosomatic battles of morality and uncertainty. Following a sufficient amount of deliberate contemplation, and a solid place to start placing new roots, Zayn made a decision to join the fire academy for the London Fire Brigade. With his prior medical expertise and an unresolved desire to help people, he felt the job would suit him perfectly. And besides, he’d be in an urban area where everyone spoke relatively the same language, which was always a plus. After fourteen weeks of extensive physical training, mental preparation, and far too many written examinations, Zayn had graduated from the London Fire Academy, along with a handful of other fire recruits. Now he was Zayn Malik, twenty-seven years old, a probationary firefighter for the London Fire Brigade, and today was his first day on the job.

After washing up, Zayn grabbed a bowl of fruit that Louis had prepared for him the night before out of the refrigerator, a stomach could only handle so much at 6:30 in the morning, and made his way back to his bedroom to continue filling his duffle bag. His new uniform was folded and laid neatly on the bed along with a fresh set of clothes to change into when the shift was over. Forty-eight-hour rotations at the firehouse were not going to be easy, but no one joined the academy in search of something easy. When his bag was packed, Zayn made his way out to the front door, leaving a note for Louis on the counter thanking him for the fruit and wishing him luck on his exams.

The nerves didn’t fully manifest themselves until Zayn was seated in his car, hands gripping the steering wheel as his knuckles turned white, and he began making his way over to the Hornsey Fire Station. The ride was short, only giving him a few minutes to fully mull over what this new job, _this new beginning_ , would entail. Zayn did not consider himself a complex person by any means. He had his family, his friends, and a life to be thankful for. But of course, Zayn also had his innumerable thoughts, a mind working too fast, a past that many could not empathize with, an identity that calls for confusion, and a heart worn on his sleeve, with a constant reminder not to leave it high and dry. Being a former combat medic already raised many questions from curious onlookers, try adding gay and wavering Muslim and that was a failed television show waiting to happen. Zayn was not ashamed of his identity, not in the slightest, but he also was smart enough to understand the day and age he lives in. Quite a lot of people consider the term “gay Muslim” to be an oxymoron, and quite a lot of people do not hold back in informing Zayn of this note. Besides, how many openly gay firefighters were universally known? Not many. And Zayn knew this all too well. It is precisely the reason why he chose to stay quiet on these matters involving his identity far before joining the fire academy. Zayn was not ashamed, nor was he closeted, his family and friends knew and loved him all the same. But the fire station, being a known center for male-dominated workplace harassment, Zayn refused to let himself fall victim to it, no matter how much he’d wished for things to be different.

Zayn pulled up to the building with the large red garage doors and felt his anxiety spike once again. With a sigh, he parked his vehicle and made his way towards the building, the duffle bag slung over his shoulder. As he pushed through the double doors at the front of the station, Zayn found himself standing in a large garage, two radiant vehicles towering over him. An ambulance was parked to the side of a beautifully polished red engine. Zayn smiled as he took in the sight, an adventure this would be indeed. He took note of the boots and fire protective gear laid underneath each door to the engine, the sounds of other local dispatches played softly throughout the ceiling speakers, and with a final look, Zayn pushed through the second set of double doors leading him to the next few years of his life.

The atmosphere was quiet, he could hear the sounds of bickering voices and forks scraping plates. He figured breakfast was being served to the firefighters as he walked further into the room. Zayn felt tense as his wandering eyes landed on the group seated at the table, not yet seeming to take mind to his presence. Fitted navy blue shirts, cropped hair, and hoards of well-defined muscle, that was the first thing Zayn could make of the unfamiliar crew. As he continued to approach the table, one of the men looked up from his plate and smirked at Zayn’s insecure stance, almost as though his attendance was long-awaited and long overdue.

“Oi, look here lads, looks like we got ourselves fresh meat,” he called out, causing the group to look up from their table. A couple of the men chuckled at the comment, while others rolled their eyes in what seemed to be accustomed irritation. They all gazed expectantly at Zayn’s reluctant figure.

“Uh, I’m Zayn Malik, the new candidate from academy forty-four,” Zayn finally mustered up the courage to say, “I’ve been assigned this station for my probationary period.”

The firefighters muttered out grumbled responses while a cheerful-looking blonde-haired man offered a friendly smile as Zayn surveyed the station. He looked around the main room and assessed the new environment, the place he’ll be spending restless nights in for the next three months, and possibly longer. Aside from the center table where the firefighters were currently situated, there was an open kitchen with two refrigerators, one for them and one for the next shift, an entertainment area filled with five recliner chairs sitting adjacent to a sizable flat-screen television. There were two large boards plastered along the east walls, one had multiple scribbled messages including an array of different handwritings, while the other a corkboard filled with weekly announcements and local advertisements. The station was a decent size considering it only held six to eight firefighters per shift.

“Welcome aboard, Candidate, it’s nice to see a new face around here,” the blonde man chimed in as he got up from his seat, Zayn could hear an inkling of an Irish accent as he spoke.

“My name’s Horan, Niall Horan, I’m the engineer on this shift,” he continued as he held out a hand that Zayn shook after a moment of staring aimlessly, “That bloke over there is Samuels. Don’t let him get to you, he gets off on being a narcissistic prick,” Niall, _Horan,_ murmured with a chuckle after Samuels threw a balled-up napkin to his head. Zayn gulped as he eyed the sandy-haired man, Samuels, and made a mental note to steer clear of him for as long as possible. “That over there is Gutierrez, she’s our medic, along with Roberts.” Horan gestured towards the woman seated at the table as she gave a head nod in Zayn’s direction. Zayn offered a small “hello” to everyone while Horan continued to introduce each member of the crew. There were five of them in total, four men and one woman. A slight tension lifted as Zayn was introduced to each member.

“Chief Deluca and Captain Payne are in chief’s office down the hall, they should be out shortly to get you situated with your gear and duties,” Horan said with a pat on Zayn’s shoulder.

Zayn nodded, anxiety building up once again. He still had to meet his commanding officers, and that would certainly prove more difficult than meeting this bunch. This was no medical tent on the outskirts of Kabul, but it was certainly an event that Zayn needed to brace himself for. This was his life now. Abiding by the chain of command, dealing with egotistical firefighters, all while being expected to think entirely rational in times of unexpected chaos—not to mention the running into burning buildings part. A new job working forty-eight-hour shifts at a time while putting his life on the line at a moment's notice. This is what Zayn was faced with, this is what Zayn knew he needed to take on.

“Oh, and Malik?” Horan called out as he sat back down next to the female medic. Zayn looked up at his new squad once again, “If I were you, I’d get in that uniform right about now. You wouldn't want to start off on the wrong foot with Payne,” Horan explained, the group giving their own nods of confirmation to the comment. Zayn nodded with a tight smile as he made his way down the hall and into the locker room. If this captain was all that the firefighters were making him out to be, then Zayn knew he absolutely could not make a mockery of himself. He never had a problem with his commanding officers on tour, despite the occasional insensitive comment alluding to his darker complexion being thrown his way, and he was not about to cause problems now. Not on his first day as a firefighter, not on the first step in a new direction.

Zayn put his duffle bag down on a bench in the center of the locker room and walked up to the full body mirror. He took three deep breaths, something he did to maintain a steady heart rate in stressful scenarios, “You can do this. You’ll be fine,” Zayn reassured himself. He took one last look in the mirror before taking out his new uniform. He changed quickly into the navy blue t-shirt, the three large words sprawled across his back. The black BDU pants fit nicely along with his steel-toed boots. Zayn looked himself over in the mirror, uncertain about the reaction that the various tattoos masking his arms would warrant. He took one last deep breath before placing his bag in the locker labeled “PFF Malik” and heading back towards the main room. As he approached, the previous sounds of casual banter and dishes clanking no longer filled the room. Now only one voice was projected, belonging to someone unfamiliar as it was far more commanding than the others. Zayn stopped himself before entering, in fear of interrupting whoever was giving out important information, evidently.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen any of you do inventory on the rigs. That needs to happen today and preferably before a dispatch. Horan, make sure the air tanks and extinguishers are topped off,” the voice seemed older and calmer than the others, yet still demanding attention and respect. _Chief Deluca_ , Zayn concluded, as he remained standing in the hallway. He knew he had to enter the room eventually, before his superiors made assumptions of a no-show candidate, but the last thing Zayn wanted was all eyes on him. “Payne, I expect you can take care of our new candidate? Christ, where is he anyway?” The looming question gave Zayn a final push to make his way into the main room and meet the officers once and for all.

“I’m here, sir. Sorry, I was changing into the uniform. My name’s-,”

“Candidate Zayn Malik, I’m aware. Next time, I expect to see you arriving with everyone else on shift,” Chief Deluca cut in as he went to shake Zayn’s trembling hand. The rest of the crew looked impressed as they took in Zayn’s form. He felt himself shrinking under their lingering gazes, knowing that all eyes were on his unique appearance from his shorn hair to the various tattoos on display. “Right, Malik, this is Captain Payne, you have any questions, you can direct them to him,” the chief explained, gesturing to a figure leaned against the messy whiteboards. The man had his arms crossed as he observed Zayn with a watchful gaze.

That was all it took for Zayn to feel another wave of anxiety crash over him once again. But this feeling was different. This was not first day jitters, or the stress of having to remember people’s names, this was an explosion of something more battling to cripple Zayn’s demeanor. The man, Captain Payne, was utterly gorgeous, looking far too young and defined by youthful inexperience to be a fire captain. If Zayn was not currently living the present moment, he would think it was all some sort of joke, or maybe an erotic fantasy. Zayn looked across the table and into the warmest brown eyes he had ever seen. This was no firefighter standing before him, this was a god. The man, the _god_ , had short light brown hair and bulging muscles on display covered by an elegant sleeve of tattoos rivaling Zayn’s own. His beautifully pink, plump lips were tilted upward in a confident smile, his skin as radiant as the sunshine. His beautifully tanned face had slight stubble shadowing a chiseled jaw. His body was built and perfect and taking steps towards Zayn who stood dazed and paralyzed. Zayn felt his heartbeat quickening. Captain Payne continued to approach until he was stopped directly in front of Zayn, his previous smile transforming into something smug, blatantly contrasting the look in his soft chocolate eyes.

“Four months in the academy and you’d think someone would tell you to take off that nose ring, Probie,” the captain uttered to Zayn, his stance unwavering. Of all the things Zayn expected to leave the mouth of such a beautiful man, that was certainly not one of them. The chief was now out of sight, managing to quietly slip back into his office, but the rest of the team remained seated at the table, all staring at the two men with looks of amusement. Zayn heard a snicker and could already tell it came from Samuels.

“Shit,” Zayn muttered, his hand immediately going up to his nose. Zayn had done so much physical and mental preparation this morning before leaving his flat, yet he still foolishly missed the silver ring sitting on his right nostril, “I-uh, apologies, sir. It must’ve slipped my mind. I-I’m aware of the dress code, sir. It won’t happen again,” Zayn stuttered.

 _Fuck,_ he thought to himself, _day one and I’ve already found a way to fuck this up._

“Hm,” Captain Payne appeared taken aback by Zayn’s formality, “Military?”

Stunned at the astute observation, he was quick to reply. “British Army, sir. I served three tours in Afghanistan as a combat medic,” Zayn responded, acutely aware of the many pairs of eyes captured by their interaction. At that moment, he noticed a similar chain under Payne’s fitted uniform shirt. “Air Force?” Zayn asked, finally mustering up some confidence in the realization that not only was this man a god _and_ a fire captain, but he was a soldier to top it all. This was how Zayn was going to die.

Captain Payne looked impressed, his hand instinctively toggling with the chain around his neck, “Air Force Fire Protection,” he responded, finally letting the stern facade fade away. “I’m Liam Payne, good to have you onboard,” he finished, offering a hand out for Zayn to grasp firmly, warm sparks shot up Zayn’s arm, he couldn’t help but wonder if Liam felt it too, “And you don’t have to address me as sir, ‘Captain Payne’ or ‘Payne’ will do just fine, Malik,” the way Zayn’s surname rolled off Liam’s tongue had him weak at the knees. Zayn had to make sure he didn’t turn into a puddle and fall at the feet of this human homo-erotic wet dream.

“Yes, Captain,” Zayn said as he watched his new commanding officer turn and retreat into his quarters. Zayn understood with that initial meeting, that it wouldn’t be excessive smoke inhalation that left him feeling breathless, it would be London Fire Captain Liam Payne. 


	2. Two

Zayn’s first week at the station was curiously unusual, to say in brief. He had been tasked with menial chores such as polishing the front and back fender of the engines and truck, performing clean up duty after meals, and making sure the bathroom floors were left nearly spotless. He was not often included in the daily firehouse banter unless intentionally lured in by Horan or Gutierrez, which only made for more awkward interactions with his coworkers. He didn’t talk to Captain Payne much after the first day when he was appointed his list of responsibilities, aside from being assigned his duties on calls. The captain’s attention was hardly on Zayn as he discussed meaningless topics with the other men, more often than not in a humorous squabble with Samuels or Horan. At times, Zayn would catch himself staring at the handsome officer for far too long, his thoughts drifting to the possibility of Liam reciprocating his newfound infatuation. With heavy eyelids fighting to stay open, Zayn began his drive home following his final shift for the week, mind drifting back to his most recent encounter with Captain Payne.

Both the engine and ambulance were moved out to the front lot, being that it was the city’s first sunny day in weeks, the chief decided to take advantage of the dry weather. While the two medics assessed the inventory and supplies on the ambulance, Samuels and Horan dragged the hoses out to rinse the engine down. Liam was watching from afar, mindlessly lifting weights in the station’s fitness area staged to the side of the engines. Zayn slung a towel over his shoulder and made his way to the front of the engine, keeping his eyes trained on the shiny red exterior of the apparatus rather than his jaw-droppingly attractive superior with his flexing muscles and shining sweat-coated skin. Boynton, another firefighter often on shift with the new candidate, stalked over to Zayn as he began toweling off the headlights. As Boynton was considered by Horan to be a rowdier member of the house, it was no surprise that the man displayed a mischievous smirk while observing Zayn’s handiwork.

“So, let me get this straight, Malik,” he began, “What’s a Muslim lad like yourself going halfway around the world to see other Muzzies get blown up for? Your family doesn’t give you shite enough or summat?” Boynton asked provokingly, chuckling at Zayn’s sudden halt in movement. He tried to hide his disgust, but the shutter as he inhaled must’ve indicated to Boynton that the comment sliced just the way he’d intended. Zayn braced himself on the engine, hands placed firmly on the vehicle as his jaw clenched in visible disdain. While Zayn himself was not one to immerse himself in religious or spiritual practices the way his paternal side does, the comments carry the same blow all the same.

“I mean, there must be something in your religion to rule that out isn’t there? There’s no way they’d let you blow up your own kind,” Boynton continued, chuckling at his own amusement.

Zayn tried his best to collect himself, his hands beginning to clench with the agitation arising in his chest. He had heard the harassment horror stories that some unlucky few candidates suffered while he was in training at the academy. It was practically a hazing process if no one in command was there to stop it. Zayn could only imagine how much worse it could possibly be for him. The demographics for firefighters in England and abroad were still very disheartening indeed. Zayn took a moment to calculate an appropriate response to the sickening comment. Boynton stood there, hands in his pockets as he maintained a vindictive gaze, supposedly anticipating the candidate’s next move. As the man turned to walk away seemingly thwarted by his unaccomplished words, Zayn’s low voice stopped him in his tracks.

“I stitched up wounds and removed bullets from innocent children placed on the table I was assigned, Boynton, that hardly constitutes the vindictive accusations you claim,” Zayn responded carefully, his eyes downcast hoping to avoid the possibility of an escalated quarrel. Before the firefighter could convene a reply, both men turned quickly at the sound of a deeply charged voice.

“I wouldn’t expect you wanting to repeat that statement to Chief, would you Boynton?” Liam asked, his glare sending daggers through Boynton’s now frozen posture. Zayn turned quickly, was stunned by the sudden presence of the officer. “If I heard you correctly, that sort of language could get you written up. Would you like that Boynton?” he continued, sending a swift glance in Zayn’s direction, brown eyes filled with worry, yet gone in a flash as the stern facade repossessed his face. Zayn stiffened as the interaction ensued in front of him, this was exactly what he wanted to avoid when he began working here, or at any job really. His cause of confrontation is the very thing that had the potential of severing his controlled bearings. However, he still couldn’t help but feel relief coursing through him as the attractive captain came to his aide. 

“Gather the hoses and take over Malik’s duties for the day. The next time I hear that language leave your mouth, you’ll regret going near the candidate, do I make myself clear?” Liam cautioned, his unclothed chest swelled with the folding of his arms. Boynton nodded curtly, a quiet “ _Yes, Captain_ ” was heard in response as he made his way to collect the hoses from Horan who had just shut them off. The captain eyed Zayn once more before his lips turned upward into a small smile, appearing nearly sorrowful for the exchange that took place.

Before Zayn could issue out his gratitude for the captain’s interference, Liam began speaking, “You need thick skin for this job, Probie. I’m sure that’s something you’ve grown accustomed to. But don’t worry, we aren’t all pricks like that one,” he stated, his hand came up to retrieve the towel still resting on Zayn’s shoulder before slinging it on to his own. Zayn held his breath at the slight contact, while desperately trying to summon an appropriate response to the captain’s comment.

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Sticks and stones innit?” Zayn replied, internally cursing himself over the awfully generic metaphor. Liam held his gaze and his eyes turned sad once again. Was it pity? Or something more? Zayn certainly wasn’t after anyone’s pity, especially from the man he’s grown dreadfully besotted by. “Don’t let them get to you, yeah? You’re here to get a job done, and you’ve been adequate so far,” Liam said, leaning in close, as if the words were only intended for Zayn to hear. As he watched the captain leave, Zayn felt the tension in his body building once again, a feeling of warmth in his chest as he replayed the captain’s words of encouragement. Zayn smiled to himself, making his way over to Horan and Samuels who had begun running drills. _This could be something good._

Zayn approached the flat, abandoning the memory of what had occurred earlier that day. He felt confused the entire ride home, constantly wondering if the captain was merely fulfilling orders of maintaining a civil and professional work environment or if there were other motivations, more emotionally driven motivations behind him stepping in on Zayn’s behalf. He questioned if there was something more, something hidden, behind the words he uttered only for Zayn’s ears to capture. Quickly shaking his callow thoughts, Zayn unlocked the front door and was greeted by the sight of a bare-legged Louis Tomlinson sprawled across their couch with multiple textbooks on his lap and at his feet.

“Leftovers in the fridge, Harry made more pasta from scratch tonight, the aspirational little shit,” Louis greeted, eyes not leaving the page he was reading intently. Zayn chuckled at the sight, silently grateful that he hadn’t come home to an empty fridge, “Is he still experimenting with different noodles?” he asked, pulling out the container of pasta. Louis’ boyfriend Harry was just as intrepid in the culinary world as he was in everything else he ventured into, there hadn’t been a day in the last few months that Zayn had come home to a kitchen that _wasn’t_ full of exotic dishes. Normally, he’d be bothered by the pile of dirty dishes, but tonight Zayn was just grateful he wouldn’t go to bed with a stomach full of something processed and hardly nutritious.

“He’s gettin’ quite good I must say, the man is bound to open up his own place sooner or later,” Louis replied as he made his way to the barstool overlooking the kitchen counter. “So, anything exciting happen with that hunk of a captain you got, or are you still trying to avoid him like the plague?” he asked, eyebrows raising as Zayn let out a groan. He had told Louis about the insanely attractive captain the minute he returned home from his first shift, and his nosy roommate hasn’t been able to shut up about it since. He seemed genuinely intrigued by his friend’s new, and sexy, dilemma, curious as to what a possible firehouse romance would entail.

“ _You know it can’t happen, Louis. It’s against every LFB ethical code in the book. I could lose my job, he could be demoted. And besides, there’s no way in hell a former Air Force turned fire captain could ever be into blokes, or me, a bloke_ ,” is what Zayn had said the first day he returned with news of a wildly alluring captain working at his station. 

“He sort of came to my rescue today,” Zayn informed, taking a seat next to Louis with his heated bowl of food, “one of the men was giving me a hard time, Payne came up and shut him down before I could even get a real word in.”

Louis’ intentional silence and sly smile caused Zayn to roll his eyes, “I’m not saying it meant anything other than him doing his job. It was just unexpected, he hasn’t talked to me much. He’s probably just being nice to me because, you know, us military men got to stick together and all that,” he rambled on in a mockingly militaristic way of speaking.

Zayn did not want to give his roommate, or himself for that matter, any inkling of false hope. Pursuing a romantic relationship with another member of the house was a massive ethical violation and a disaster waiting to happen. But now Zayn was just getting ahead of himself. 

Louis sighed, “Well, have you talked to the other lads? Surely one of them has to know his deal, right?” he asked inquisitively, exhibiting more hope than Zayn had all week.

Zayn shrugged, “He seems the closest with Horan, _Niall_ , the Irish bloke I told you about. Also seems to go way back with Samuels, he banters the most with him from what I’ve seen.”

Louis nodded before retreating back to the couch to continue his studies, “Well Zaynie,” he called out, “You’ve already said that you and the Horan lad have hit it off, why don’t you try asking him?” Louis finished.

Zayn twirled his fork as he weighed out his options. It was then that he recalled the offer Horan had made as they were leaving the scene of a three-vehicle accident they had responded to a day prior. “He asked me out to drinks with him and a couple of others from shift tomorrow night,” Zayn said slowly, wondering what the outing could possibly mean for him. Zayn hadn’t been out with his squad yet and pondered if this was the house’s way of initiating him into the group, as one of their own. He had just finished his first week of probation, after all. But it also means that Captain Payne, _Liam_ , would most likely be in attendance, which meant Zayn would be a blushing, flustered mess, something he hated seeing of himself as opposed to his usual composure.

Louis looked up from his books once again, his blue eyes were serious and intense, something unusual for the normally exuberant man, “Zayn,” he said, striding over to cup Zayn’s face in his palms. Zayn gave him a look of annoyance as he prepared for whatever nonsense was about to spurt from his friend’s mouth, “you know I love you ’til my dying day. But Harry and I can only play the concerned parents for so long. You, my dear, need to get laid. And if not from that fiery hunk of man you have at the station, then someone at that bar would be happy to bed your beautiful, godly arse. It’s been _ages_ , mate. So I urge you to please go out with your fire mates. At this point, it’s a necessity. Do it for the sake of your health and sanity,” he finished.

Zayn stared blankly, already very accustomed to his friend’s dramatic antics, before wiggling himself out of his friend’s hold. He finished his meal in silence, debating whether or not he would accept Horan’s offer. It was something the firefighters did weekly anyway, going out to the bar, so Zayn didn’t have to worry about his absence interfering with their plans. However, he did see some truth in Louis’ rationale. Zayn had been more or less on his own since moving to London from his Yorkshire residence, aside from Louis, Harry, and a few mates from the training academy. He didn’t have a group to call his own, or people that shared his interests.

After washing the dishes and taking a much-needed shower, Zayn sat atop his bed staring aimlessly at his phone screen. A few more minutes went by before he wrote out the message to his squad member:

**_To N. Horan: Cheers for the invite mate, count me in. I’ll see you tomorrow._ **

Zayn set his phone on his nightstand and climbed into bed. His thoughts began to wander, as per usual. _“Your family don’t give you shite enough or summat?”._ Boynton’s words played on an endless loop before he could stop it. What Zayn had said earlier was true, the harsh words and ignorant comments weren’t anything new, he only hoped that he wouldn’t be placed in a house where those sort of things were said. It was shocking to see someone like Alex Boynton among such kind-hearted people at the station like Gutierrez and Horan, Martina and Niall, as Zayn recalled. Before he could delve deeper into his dark thoughts, soft brown eyes, crinkled smiles, and beautiful tattooed muscles covered in a sheen of sweat afflicted Zayn’s restless mind.

He imagined what it would be like to date someone as noble as Liam Payne, or even have the man return his feelings in the very least. It was as if the part of Zayn that could even produce feelings such as these had been sedated for far too long, as far back as his second deployment, or maybe even farther, and it was the captain, _Liam_ , who had awoken those senses. Zayn hadn’t felt feelings this intense since his last relationship, but with the way things had unfolded, with anger and yelling and resentment and betrayal, he didn’t believe he could feel this strongly ever again. Which would only make coming to terms with reality even more unbearable. It was too often that Zayn fell into the trap of unrequited love, of yearning for the impossible. Louis had once joked that it was Zayn’s taste in the “straightest of straights”. But Zayn believed it was deeper than that, people saw the complexities in life, in love, that Zayn did not often see. He loved harder than most, never letting the burden of a troubled past get in the way of a bright future. Perhaps it was what got Zayn to where he is now, his head and heart intact for the most part, with a certain Liam Payne now weighing heavy on his brain. Zayn couldn’t tell where his ability to rationalize went or how far it strayed. But Zayn craved to acknowledge the small part of his deep subconscious that told him otherwise. The part of him that kept him subdued each night as he lay awake in his creaky bed at the station, the feeling that there was more to the way Liam Payne gazed into Zayn’s soul. 

*****

Zayn made the poorly informed decision to walk to the pub. As it was only seven blocks away from his flat, it gave him a sufficient amount of time to mentally prepare for what was to come. However, he did not anticipate the weather turning to shit three blocks in. Zayn picked up the pace as he felt raindrops dampen his shortened hair, grateful that he was wearing a comfortable hooded jumper. The place was easy to spot, the large windows were illuminated by the warm low light of the interior. It seemed cozy and not too busy for a Friday night. Zayn paused in front, looking through the windows to make sure he hadn’t arrived too early, he didn’t need further embarrassment for being the only one there when everyone else arrived. He checked the time and concluded that he was already twenty minutes past the time that Niall told him to be there by. Zayn took a peek into the second window and immediately spotted the table where Horan, Gutierrez, Roberts, and Samuels were sitting. Zayn let out a breath, mainly of anticipation but also relief, before pushing through the entrance and out of the dampened night air.

Besides the music and general chatter throughout the bar, Zayn could easily make out Niall’s infectious laugh and Andy’s bellowing voice. He took off his hood and shoved his hands into the pockets of his black skinny jeans as he made his way over to the table occupied by his squad members.

“Alright, Zayn! Look who made it fellas,” Niall said, smile plastered across his reddened face. The liquor must’ve already taken its effect on the Irish man, “You don’t mind if we call you Zayn, do ya? We like to keep it to first names outside the house, separates us from the job,” Niall continued as he pushed out a chair for Zayn.

Zayn smiled and took a seat as a beer was slid over to him, “No, not at all. Might take me a second to get used to. Seeing as I mainly place your surnames to face,” Zayn said, looking across the table at the other three people in their booth. There was Roberts, Nathan as he recalled, who was the other medic on their shift, Martina, and Andy. Zayn noticed the empty seat to Andy’s left and could only presume one more was expected to join them. At that moment, Liam made his way over to the table, a new tray of drinks placed in front of the group as cheers were heard throughout.

“Calm down the lot of you, it’s not like I’m buying,” Liam said with a relaxed smile on his face. Zayn took in the appearance of the beautiful man, a bit taken aback by how casual he looked. Liam was wearing similar skinny jeans to Zayn, a simple black t-shirt hugging his chest and arms tightly and in all the right places. The dog tags were tucked away, as usual, only leaving the chain around his neck on display. Liam looked over to Zayn as he muttered a soft greeting, “Zayn, glad you could make it,” he said, sending a warm blinding smile his way.

Zayn looked down quickly, before staging a police smile across his face. He took a swig of his beer, trying to avoid any chance of him speaking up. The group chatted aimlessly, mostly funny accounts of their times at other stations. Zayn smiled as he listened, fascinated by the stories they all had to share. The conversation began getting serious when Martina brought up her hesitancy to start dating again. Niall chimed in with his own stories of courting multiple women, but it wasn’t until the attention shifted to Liam that Zayn became tense. This was partly what Zayn came here for, to find out if there was even remotely a chance that a man like Liam could take an interest in Zayn in a less professional environment.

“What ever happened to the bird you brought to the spring fundraiser last month, Liam? She was a looker for sure,” Andy asked facetiously as he motioned to his chest simulating a fake set of breasts. Niall smacked the side of his head and continued to chuckle. Zayn’s heart sank.

“You know it wasn’t anything of the sorts, Sophia’s nothing more than a friend,” Liam replied, fiddling with his hands. “I’m not actively searching for anything, nor do I care much to. The right person will come my way without me having to go and find it,” he concluded, finishing off his drink, swiftly ending the conversation before it got the chance to start.

Andy let out a loud snort before nudging Liam, “What a bloody sap you are. Who knew our strong and manly captain could be such a softie,” he noted sarcastically. The table laughed in response and Zayn observed Liam’s features, searching for any indication of how he was feeling. Liam’s eyes met Zayn’s and he looked away quickly, cheeks flushing once more. Good thing he had an olive complexion or else his infatuation would be written across his face, clear as day.

“What about you, probie? Any girls in your life?” Martina asked, smiling sweetly at Zayn. He shifted uneasily, he was in no place to share the details of his personal life, or _who_ was in his personal life for that matter. But Martina did imply members of the female persuasion, after all, so he didn’t technically have to.

“No women in my life at the moment. Unless my sisters and mum count,” Zayn said smiling.

His coworkers chuckled, seeming satisfied with his response. It made Zayn feel comfortable, more embraced by the group, and their silence only urged Zayn to continue, “My last relationship ended before my second tour. They didn’t like how set I was on returning to Afghanistan, said I had a death wish or summat,” he said finally, intentionally using neutral pronouns to describe his former partner. He remembered how Tyler had stormed out on Zayn upon the news of his second deployment, never seeing him again. Martina looked at him sympathetically. It was only Niall who had a curious expression on his features, blue eyes staring questioningly at Zayn.

Zayn brushed it off as he turned his attention to Nathan who began speaking, “What was it like out there? You were a medic weren’t you?”

The attention remained fixed on Zayn as he mulled over the question. It was better than being asked if he’s killed anyone, but it still leaves Zayn wondering just how much information was appropriate to share. “Some days were better than others. The hardest were the days I had so many patients in my tent and not enough nurses to assist me. Just innocent civilians standing in the crossfire of fucked up circumstances,” Zayn explained, eyes not leaving his beer glass as he spoke.

The atmosphere changed once again. Everything felt much heavier, leaving Zayn to feel guilty for making it as such. He was hoping he hadn’t said too much to upset the group, but when he looked up, all eyes were on him intently, eyes turned serious, but fascinated by Zayn’s words. He noticed Liam stiffen visibly, his usual warm brown eyes turned into something Zayn could not interpret, nor did he want to.

“You’re not boring us Zayn, please continue,” Martina encouraged as she leaned, hands cradling her face in childlike wonder. The five pairs of eyes on him nearly caused Zayn to giggle at the absurdity of the situation. Their faces reminded him of his younger sisters’ when they anticipated one of Zayn’s accounts of his adventures overseas.

“There’s not much to tell really,” he started. “Each day, we followed a similar, standard routine. I suppose the toughest were the days we just couldn’t save them, you know? Couldn’t get to them in time. The kids liked me. Hell, I enjoyed them a whole lot more than the other guys I’d have to treat. Some of those men were vicious. They’d yell at me, call me a traitor to my own people. The kids I could talk to, engage with them. They were just grateful there was a man in uniform that looked like them. This one kid I met was also named Zain. He’d hang around our base just to tell me about his day. Reminded me of my nephew,” Zayn drifted off, he grew sad thinking of the boy.

Niall must’ve noticed the solemn expression cross his features. He cleared his throat and looked to Liam who was fiddling with the tags under his shirt. A nervous habit perhaps. Zayn took note of Liam’s pained expression and felt an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to be the one to cause such a devastating sight. Zayn didn’t even realize how this could affect Liam, if it triggered any memories of what he went through when he was deployed. Before Zayn could change the subject to a lighter topic, Andy opened his mouth to speak, “If you don’t mind me asking, do you know what happened to the boy? Was he still around when you left?”

Zayn swallowed, trying to ignore the pang in his chest at the memory, “I’m not certain. I stopped seeing him about a month before my return to the UK. There was a strike near the neighborhood he’d lived in. I never heard from him after that,” he said calmly. The air between the six of them changed after Zayn gave his response. Niall patted him on the back before cutting off the silence by turning the conversation over to footie stats and other nonsense.

Zayn looked over to Liam once more, his demeanor hadn’t changed from what it was throughout Zayn’s story. When their eyes met, Zayn offered a small smile in reassurance. He could see Liam’s jaw protruding as the two men held each other’s gaze. It was then that Liam got up abruptly, eyeing the table, and then Zayn once more before quietly excusing himself. Everyone looked confused before turning back to the discussion at hand. Zayn seemed to be the only one phased by Liam’s sudden departure.

Niall turned to Zayn before tugging him in close, “Don’t worry about him, he does that sometimes,” he assured before returning to his chat with Martina and Andy. Niall’s words left Zayn feeling more confused than comforted. He stayed quiet the rest of the night, trying to figure out what exactly he’d done to Liam Payne.


	3. Three

When Zayn approached the station on a bright and early Monday morning, he had only one goal in mind; try to figure out what the fuck is going on with his captain. He had spent all of Saturday and Sunday mulling over what he could’ve possibly done to offend the man and he couldn’t seem to place it. As he walked across the front lot, large duffle bag slung over his shoulder and a station beanie over his raven-colored hair, he noticed the captain entering through the station’s double doors. Zayn picked up his pace, following the captain as he called out, “Cap! Wait up.”

The captain turned slowly before locking eyes with a panting Zayn. He had caught up and stopped abruptly, the two men now standing at the half opened doors. Liam gave him an expectant look before saying, “Candidate Malik, what can I do for you?” His voice remained monotone along with his formality, warm eyes betraying the defiant expression on his face.

Zayn could not read his face or understand the incentive behind his demeanor. One minute he’s warm smiles and encouraging remarks, the next it’s blank expressions and conventional addresses. Zayn had rehearsed what he was going to say to the captain before arriving at the station this morning, but one look at the beautiful man was all it took for Zayn’s coherent thoughts to vanish into the cold air that surrounded him. He stood in the captain’s proximity, almost able to feel the warmth radiating off Liam’s body, and he had no idea what to say.

“Have I said something to offend you?” Zayn started faster than his mind could comprehend, “Look I’m sorry if I said something you didn’t want to hear but…I just don’t understand, Payne.”

Liam continued to stare at Zayn blankly, his words causing the guarded expression to return once again. Zayn braced himself for the captain’s response, only praying that he wasn’t about to receive a punitive earful for stepping out of line as a probationary officer. Liam moved further inside the station as Zayn kept on his tail until the captain turned around without any warning. The two men were now facing each other with only a few inches of distance in between them. The area was quiet, the rest of the crew would begin trickling in at any moment but all Zayn could focus on was the small space between himself and the captain, their breaths mirroring each other as their gazes remained in place.

“Look,” Liam began, “I apologize if I made you feel like you did something wrong. That’s not on you. But I respectfully ask that you remain civil and don’t let our own lives interfere with our performance here, probie.” He said quietly, “At the end of the day, I’m your commanding officer, and while I enjoy our social gatherings outside of work, that’s not something you should expect to see inside this house, understood?” Liam continued maintaining a steady gaze with Zayn’s own.

“Yes, Captain,” Zayn stated with a huff before bumping past Liam and walking further into the building and to the locker rooms.

Zayn took one look behind him to see the captain’s reaction to his reciprocated formality only to see Liam with his eyes downtrodden into his office. As Zayn dressed for his shift, more voices starting filling the room, lost in a trance of his own wandering thoughts, he nearly startled at Horan’s presence behind him. “Morning, Probie!” He exclaimed in a seemingly too cheery of voice for the hour of the day, “You ready, mate? Perhaps today you’ll get to be a part of more action than you’ve seen the last few shifts. I promise you, it isn’t always this dull in the neighborhood.” Horan explained as he threw his work shirt over his head, tousling up his blonde locks in the process.

“I’m getting the feeling you’re a bit of an adrenaline junkie, aren’t you Horan?” Zayn asked with an amused smile.

“What? And you’re not? Why are you on the job then?” Horan responded as he began walking away. A fair point indeed.

At that very moment, the expected ringing through the speakers alerted them to a dispatch coming through. The crew stopped in their tracks as they listened to the message: “ _Vehicle collision, Barlby and Highlever northbound, multiple possible injuries on site.”_

“Code three, go time baby!” Zayn heard Samuels shout as they all filed out the door. After quickly gearing themselves up next to their allotted doors on the engine, Horan hopped into the driver’s seat as Zayn took the seat behind him. He felt the anticipation growing as Boynton, Samuels, and their captain followed suit, buckling up and assembling the rest of their uniforms. The siren switched on and Horan transported them briskly through the garage doors and onto the quiet Kensington street, all the men switched their headphones on to communicate the details of the scene.

“This is a multiple vehicle collision, which means it’s all hands on deck. If there are multiple victims, which I presume there will be, Malik, I need you to tend to the most accessible ones while we assess those trapped in their cars, got it?” Liam instructed through his headset. Zayn nodded abruptly, with a militaristic “Yes, Sir” on his tongue. The captain peered behind him attempting to meet Zayn’s wandering gaze. His bemused facial expression gave way to the perplexing formality of his words. Perhaps now Liam could understand that they were both acting inane over nothing at all.

Horan parked the red engine in the middle of the street to alert onlookers and other drivers of their presence. The five men bounded towards the gruesome scene unfolding before them as the ambulance took its position at the now-closed off intersection. As Liam started barking out orders to the medics and firefighters, something Zayn would have found especially alluring had it not been for their current tasks, he laid eyes on the first victim he knew he’d be helping Gutierrez and Roberts assist. A woman looking to be middle-aged hobbling by the side of her vehicle, sporting a compound fibula fracture that left Zayn bewildered as to how she was still walking towards their general direction. He quickly picked up his pace, calling out for a stretcher and the proper splinting materials.

“Miss, please try not to move, we'll get you to a stretcher,” Zayn said apprehensively, trying to maintain a leveled inflection as he offered the injured woman mobile support, “Was there anyone else in the vehicle with you?” He asked, taking notice of the nearly compressed sedan behind her, he winced as he continued to offer support for her balance. She shook her head, eyes filled with panic as her breathing labored, gripping Zayn's coat every so tightly.

Martina and Nathan came up behind Zayn with the materials he ordered, including the stretcher they were now carefully placing the distraught woman on. “Let’s get her leg splinted and spine stabilized. She may be tachycardic. You guys got it from here I presume,” he said matter-of-factly before turning to gauge the scene directly to his left. Liam and the others were using one of the hydraulic tools to pry the door to a black rover open. Upon seeing the candidate looking on in astonishment, Liam called out to him, “Malik, get over here, we need an extra set of hands to get this thing open.”

With no other tasks lying in wait for the candidate to tend to, Zayn picked up his pace as he approached the tattered vehicle. A young man looking close to his own age and that of the captain’s sat in the driver's seat, audibly groaning and yelling in protest to the pain caused by his limbs being crushed. “On my count, pull this open with Horan, got it?” Liam asked, working with Horan and Boynton to pry the passenger door open, Samuels standing ready with a neck brace in hand.

“Let’s do it, Cap,” Zayn responds, with a new wave of adrenaline and confidence coursing through his veins. Liam orders the men to begin prying the door open with the hydraulics as Zayn steadies his hand between the door and passenger seat. As soon as the machine snaps the door off its hinges, Zayn pulls with all of his might, gaining entrance to the car caving in on itself.

“Go! Go go!” Liam yelled to his men as Zayn quickly slipped his slimmer physique into the vehicle, taking ample control of the situation at hand. Using his previous expertise of working briskly in high-pressure situations, he quickly began taking charge of the scene, ordering Samuels to hand him the brace to put around the injured man’s neck.

When Zayn safely extracted the man from the vehicle, his neck and spine stabilized and his body transported to the nearest bus awaiting his arrival, he surveyed the extent of the damage to the scene and took note that everyone affected had been seen to appropriately. With a sigh of relief, he nearly startled at Liam coming up to his side, observing the scene in equal measure.

“Well, Malik,” Liam began, Zayn now turning to look at the man speaking with hopeful eyes, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t impressed with your abilities.” Liam had a kind smile on his face, turning to meet Zayn’s regard. “You took charge, faster than most candidates would in these scenarios. You should be proud”.

Zayn used this moment of candor to hold Liam’s attention, in hopes of getting the captain to continue with his lack of restraint in the present moment. “Liam,” he started, bracing himself for the reaction of his improper title being used. The captain looked at him expectantly, Zayn took this as a sign to continue. “I may not understand what goes through your head, but you and I could have more in common than you think, you reckon?” Zayn speaks cautiously, choosing his words carefully, attempting to emulate the swirl of thoughts that swam in his head on every occasion he’s near the captain.

“I know we’ve barely spoken outside of work, but…I mean, I can only imagine we’re cut from similar cloth. For crying out loud, I had no idea I’d be working with former military, that doesn’t happen too often. In the same house no less.” Zayn is rambling at this point, but he hoped some of his words weren’t falling on deaf ears. Liam's eyes are friendly and inviting, but Zayn still noticed the inkling of restriction that remained.

Liam breathed slowly, helmet under arm, looking to his own boots and back up to Zayn’s awaiting figure, “Malik, I—“

“Cap what’s keeping you? Malik, get it moving. Let’s get this show on the road ya cunts, we still need to get groceries for tonight,” Samuels' bellowing voice cuts in, he shouted to the men seemingly unaware of their current interchange. Samuels was jogging backward towards the engine, smile plastered on his face, riding the high of a successful call.

“You did good, Malik,” was all Liam said before returning the engine. Zayn followed behind slowly, unaware if he had just made the situation, and Liam’s apparent resigned air to him, better or worse. 

*****

The following morning, the crew was dispatched to a small house fire down the street. Zayn assumed it was another 'all hands on deck' situation until he was ordered by both Chief Deluca and Captain Payne to stay back and continue the inventory in the gear closet. Zayn was reluctant to follow orders, adamant to join his team on call, but he knew he couldn’t challenge them in his position, not as a candidate. He stayed behind and waited for his coworkers to return. As time progressed, he grew more and more restless. He had completed all his allotted tasks and opted to find other duties to attend before he settled on using the exercise equipment to ease his mind.

Just as Zayn finished a few rounds of jumping rope and crunches, the garage doors opened, the sound of truck engines hauling into the station. Zayn sat up, hoping to catch a glimpse of any of his fellow squad members’ faces to gauge the severity of the situation they were returning from. Roberts and Gutierrez sharply slammed the doors to the parked ambulance, a solemn look on their faces. Zayn turned to see Samuels, Boynton, and Horan removing their soot-covered gear before he called for Niall, wondering where his Captain was.

“Horan, where’s Payne?” Zayn asked as he moved to stand on the exercise mats he occupied.

Niall trudged over to Zayn across the garage turning his head back at the engine, indicating Liam’s current whereabouts.

“He gets like this after some calls. I wouldn’t bother him if I were you. Just let him have his time, he’ll leave the rig eventually,” Niall explained.

Zayn looked over and could see Liam’s downtrodden face in the reflection of the rearview passenger mirror. A look of sorrow and defeat cascading his features.

“Mate, what happened?” Zayn asked astonished, his voice filled with concern and a desire to know what events unfolded on call.

“Turns out we may have needed you after all,” Niall began, “I don’t think the cap knew how big this structure fire was. We only just got to the house’s occupants in time before the flashover. We got 'em all out, but one of the daughters, she had locked herself in her closet, she may not pull through. Her injuries, they were pretty bad.”

Zayn felt his face pale as Niall continued to explain the incident, “Payne was the one to carry her out, he doesn’t take these things too well, when he knows he may have not gotten to them in time.”

Niall's voice was lower than when he had begun to speak. Zayn just listened helplessly, feelings of anger and sadness bubbling inside of him. He should have been there, he should have gone with his crew. Why did they have to order his stay? As Horan withdrew into the station, Zayn carefully made his way up the side of the engine, halting at Liam’s door. He looked through the window, observing a disheartened fire captain. Zayn knew the feeling all too well, having experienced it himself while deployed 5000 miles away. The knowledge that someone was left unsaved, uncared for, unattended to, when your job is to do just that, it’s an unmatched form of affliction. Perhaps Liam felt the same in his own experiences abroad. Perhaps Zayn was overstepping and entering ill-suited territory when he opened the captain’s door, Liam looking up from his lap stunned to see anyone dare disturb his moment of sullen contemplation. Perhaps it was far too inappropriate as he gaped at Liam, willing the words to leave his mouth.

“There were so many I couldn’t save, Captain. There was so much more I wish I could’ve done, that I couldn’t do. And every day I try to make up for those losses. But that’s all we can do, innit? We can try. You got to keep trying, Payne.” Zayn stood back, giving Liam the space he needed to give thought to the candidate’s bold interjection. Zayn had hoped alluding to his own background would motivate Liam to see where his own reasons to lead and continue leading the house lied.

Liam nodded, his face giving way to an understanding of Zayn’s words. He grabbed his helmet and launched himself out of the engine and past Zayn. Just as Zayn’s anxiety began climbing once again, Liam turned, and with an earnest “thank you”, he disappeared into the station. Zayn fiddled with his dog tags, the nervous gesture he seemed to subconsciously adopt from the captain he doted on from afar. _God, what was he doing?_

*****

After the encounter with Liam, Zayn’s shift dragged on and proved to be rather uneventful with only a few medical calls that summoned Gutierrez and Roberts away and one other fire dispatch for a stove left on in an empty apartment. Zayn showered and changed in the locker rooms before letting the tension of another shift over and done with lift from his shoulders. He made several attempts to reign in his drifting mind as to not think about the quiet captain who had retired to his office for the remainder of the shift. The more Zayn let his thoughts meander to what Liam could possibly be feeling, the more Zayn’s heart clenched at the notion. Just as he was about to leave the garage, a voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Oi, Zayn! Fancy a drink with me?” Horan asked running to catch up with Zayn.

Zayn sighed, he was hoping to go home and sleep for the next two days and hopefully forget another unsuccessful round of pining over a man so close to him in proximity yet so far out of reach. Horan seemed to notice Zayn’s apprehensiveness before he chimed in once again, “C’mon mate,” he started cautiously with encouragement laced in his tone, “You’ll get your rest eventually, but something tells me you have a lot on your mind. I’m simply here to aid in your anguish.”

Zayn rolled his eyes, the man's dramatics could rival Louis’ on any given day. Eventually, he let up, agreeing to tag along with Niall. Apparently, it would just be the two of them, giving Zayn a good excuse to get to know his coworker, and perhaps acquiring more information about other members of the house as well. With a soft cheer of victory, Niall led the way to his car, Zayn opting to ride with him to the pub nearby.

Making their way inside the quiet establishment, Niall got them a pint before they both settled into the booth. He looked at Zayn expectantly, waiting for Zayn to initiate any semblance of a conversation. When Zayn gave Niall an equally leveled look, Niall huffed and initiated the discussion himself.

“So, Malik. You went to Payne while he was in his… _state_ ,” he said slowly, “You certainly have a hefty pair on ya, don’t ya?” His accent getting thicker as he poked fun at Zayn’s actions from the day prior.

“The man's an enigma. Most days I don’t know what I’ll get from him. Didn’t even have this much difficulty communicating with my commanding officers on tour, mate,” Zayn said shaking his head, hints of desperation interlaced in his explication. “I mean c’mon, you’re his friend, yeah? It’s like one day, he seems like he can be with us, be our team member, rather than just our superior, and then other days we tiptoe around his presence? I don’t get it.” He huffed before leaning back into his seat, feeling even more defeated coming to terms with his own bewilderment than he had leaving what felt like an endless, thankless shift at the station. Voicing his thoughts was more than a matter of his personal, and wildly inappropriate feelings for the man, something he did not intend to inform the man sitting opposite of him, it was letting his ever-composed exterior crumble, just by the minuscule amount, to enable someone who appeared to be trustworthy get a glimpse inside his over-functioning psyche.

“I talked to him after the call because that’s how I would want to be talked to, yeah? I wish I had someone talking me off every ledge I found myself on when I was distressed beyond my wit’s end. I meant no harm in speaking to him.” Zayn finished, releasing his words with a large gulp of beer. He grimaced not used to the sudden distinct taste on his tongue.

Niall nodded along, seeming to understand the man’s justification. “Captain Payne, _Liam,_ is a complex guy. Hell, I’ve known him for years and there’s still plenty I have yet to figure out about the lad. But give it time. He’ll see you just as he sees the rest of us. You haven’t done anything wrong here.”

Zayn scoffed at the affirmation. _Yeah, but what does that mean if_ I _can’t see him as the rest of us?_

Niall observed Zayn’s internal dialogue before providing further insight, “Look, mate. Liam’s done plenty in his life to make up for what he’s lost, or _never had_ to begin with. For fuck’s sake, the man was born with health problems, he constantly struggled in school both physically and socially. Had hardly any money to his name before enlisting. I met him after his first tour and I’m telling you Zayn he may seem like a giant ball of mystery to you, but he’s got a kind heart, a good head on his shoulders, and you can always count on him to be loyal. And that, my friend, is what makes a good, a solid firefighter.”

Hearing Niall shed light on many of Zayn’s curiosities and concerns made him perceive Liam in a new manner. He thought of the beautiful man he saw only glimpses of throughout his shifts, his kind chocolate eyes, the ink on his arms that told a story he had yet been told, the warmth he radiated even in the coldest conditions. Zayn wanted more, to be close, to confide in him, to have him to call his own. He couldn’t help but shake the feeling that arose every time he thought of being near the young fire captain.

Niall and Zayn continued to converse about their lives for what felt like hours, Zayn feeling more at ease with each passing moment. He was surprisingly delighted to learn more about his coworker, learning he came from Mullingar, Ireland, he moved to England when he was only twenty-two years old in hopes of becoming a physical therapist but fell in love with the Fire Brigade upon his impromptu recruitment. Zayn shared accounts of his upbringing in Bradford and his young life being of mixed Pakistani and British descent. They could both relate to the idea of being brought up in religious households without themselves devoutly maintaining the identity, something that could be quickly concluded of Zayn by his many tattoos and his willingness to consume alcohol when it was placed in front of him. They finished off their night with more lack of reserve than they initially entered it with.

Zayn was dropped off at his car parked in front of the station, assuring Niall on the way that he was fine to drive. “Trust me mate, three glasses will certainly not do me in, you Irish aren’t the only ones capable of holding your liquor,” Zayn explained before a cheerfully cackling Niall drove off with a quick farewell.

Zayn drove home carefully, only coming to find out the late, or early morning, hour upon arriving at his front door and checking his phone. He had opened the door slowly, cautious to not disturb his sleeping roommate, before noticing the living room lights remained on. Louis was positioned on the couch in a fashion Zayn saw more often than not.

“Fuck, Lou what are you still doing up?” Zayn filed in placing his keys in their usual spot.

Louis looked up from the many books spread across his lap, “I could ask the same of you Mr. ‘Don’t you fucking dare wake me up after shift, I'm coming straight home, I’m proper knackered’” he replied making a mockery of Zayn’s northern intonation.

When Louis wasn’t at home with his nose buried in far too many books to constitute a healthy study mechanism, he was at the school doing the very same. Studying for a postgraduate degree in Public Health proved to be more grueling than one would initially presume.

“Quiet now, Haz is sleeping in there,” Louis stated, gesturing to his bedroom door that was cracked open.

Zayn dropped his duffle bag mindful of the noise he was making. Before he could enter his room containing a bed practically calling out for him, Louis stopped him in his path.

“Mind telling me where you were or shall I be left to draw my own conclusions based on your less than orderly appearance?” Zayn chuckled in response to Louis' ambitious assumptions. Perhaps he should leave his friend questioning whether or not he’s returning from the embrace of someone else’s bedsheets. Maybe then will the old married couple that is his two friends leave him and his sex life alone at last.

Zayn shook his head before opting to give a satisfactory response instead, “Was just out with a coworker, nothing more,” he answered, still aiming for that prompt retreat to his bedroom.

“Get laid, Zayn, I mean it! I’ll drag Captain Hunk over here by the ears if I have to.” Louis warned before returning back to his studies.

Zayn scoffed, _that’ll be the day._


	4. Four

Perhaps Zayn’s words were what his captain needed to hear after all because by the beginning of his next shift, nearly having completed a month at the small Kensington station, Zayn noticed a different, brighter Liam Payne. But giving himself credit for the vivacious captain is a tad ambitious. Zayn’s first month at the station had been an upward climb. Now in the good graces of his chief and coworkers, with the exception of Boynton who he kept his distance from and remained civil with on calls, Zayn felt more comfortable as a firefighter now than ever before. Their dispatches varied by shift, but Zayn felt well equipped to be the one to assist his fellow medics on medical calls as well as entering any burning building he was ordered to, with a partner of course, which frequently varied based on what his chief and captain saw fit. Often, he was assigned to tail Samuels, but he enjoyed the rare instances he was left with Horan instead, the two working rather well together and avoiding any catastrophic incidents thus far.

It wasn’t until they were dispatched to a major structure fire in the midst of their Wednesday afternoon grocery run that he was ordered to enter the four-story apartment complex alongside his captain. Zayn could not decipher the cause of his fluttering heart, whether it was the anticipation of entering his largest structure blaze to date or having to work so closely alongside the source of every erotic dream he’d been having as of late. As the chief and Boynton got the hoses running and pumping water to the windows of the second and third floor, Liam recited procedural orders as the men got every component of their protective gear into place. When his O2 air tank was secured, Zayn took his place beside Liam before the newly enlivened captain turned to him, “Ready to roll?”.

“Let’s do it, Cap,” Zayn responded through his mask enthusiastically, using the phrase he began repeatedly employing on calls when Liam addressed him individually.

With one more hopeful look cast to his captain, he advanced towards the building, the blood coursing through his veins driving Zayn into motion, riding a high he never imagined he’d achieve after opting out of a fourth deployment. _Adrenaline junkie indeed._

Everything began moving in slow motion, following Liam’s command to climb the three flights of stairs that submerged them into the worst of the smoke and flames. 

“Start calling out, Malik! We need to haul ass here!” Liam exclaimed, the roar of the flames enveloping his voice as he made his way through the first residential door.

Zayn moved onto the next, “Fire Brigade, clear the building!” He yelled into the first room. After doing a quick, yet thorough sweep of the smoke-filled apartment, he moved on closer to the mass of flames encircling the far staircase at the end of the hallway. Liam was sweeping the apartments opposite of Zayn’s wall, kicking in as many doors as he could muster.

“ _Fire contained on the second floor, no longer SAR priority_ ,” Zayn heard the message crackling through his radio from one of the other crewmates.

“Malik, keep it moving!”

Zayn continued on to one of the final residences on the floor asking potential residents in distress to call out once more. It was then that he heard a groan coming inside the apartment he began scoping out. An older, heavy-set man laid eerily still on his kitchen floor, flames beginning to engulf the entrance to his home. “Captain, the fire’s coming from unit 3F, I got someone here, I need some assistance!” Zayn roared through his radio, Liam hurtled into the apartment in record time. The fire had nearly flooded the entire apartment by the time both men began hoisting the man in an easier position to evacuate him.

“We need to get out of here before the flashover. Roberts! Gutierrez! Get yourselves ready at the leftmost entrance to the building, we got a live one. He’s in bad shape, possible loss of consciousness due to smoke inhalation,” the captain instructed through his radio. Both Zayn and Liam began moving the man towards the stairs, the captain having already alerted Horan and Samuels to finish the search and rescue on the floor. Thankfully, the majority of the building’s occupants had evacuated prior to the brigade’s arrival, most floors only subjugated to the heavy smoke rather than the flames themselves.

Liam and Zayn carried the man down the flights of stairs that felt endless. Zayn’s arms and legs were burning, but he maintained his grip on the barely conscious man that he and the captain struggled to retain with every passing second growing longer and longer. With a final turn of the corner, Zayn felt the light of the exit doors envelope his fatigued body. Breaking through the building’s door provided Zayn a nearly debilitating sense of relief. Getting the heavy man onto the stretcher was no easy task, but they had managed to do so successfully on Liam’s count. The captain and candidate sauntered back to the engine, the wave of satisfaction aiding in every step towards safety they took. With the knowledge that the building was fully evacuated, Liam again turned his attention to the new firefighter peering at the building still slightly alight in front of them.

“Well, Candidate, I’d say you and I make a pretty good team,” the captain said matter-of-factly, offering the most affectionate smile Zayn had seen cross the beautiful face of the man beside him.

Zayn made an attempt to conceal the feeling of euphoria that took over his insides, however, it translated into self-satisfaction as he responded, “And it took you this long to figure that out?” Before offering a smirk and entering the back of the engine with a deep sigh of relief. Liam stalked behind, with the look of contentment subtly gracing his features. He sat in front of Zayn sporting such a soft and private smile that Zayn felt himself intruding on his private, intimate moment of triumph. _Liam loves this feeling. What a feeling it was._

*****

Back at the station, Zayn began ridding himself of the uniform that kept him much warmer than he cared to admit. By the time he had entered the uniform closet, he was sweating bullets, opting to change his entire ensemble all together. He waited for the others to clear out before ridding himself of his official Fire Brigade t-shirt, readily in search of the fresh one he kept above his appointed shelf. As he discarded the soiled shirt in the laundry basket, he heard the door behind him open abruptly, Liam standing frozen his eyes widened in _shock_? Agitation?

Zayn felt the captain’s gaze wander across every inked piece etched into his olive skin. Feeling vulnerable under the man’s unwavering stare, Zayn turned quickly, putting on the fresh shirt as he spouted a hasty apology.

“The room’s all yours now, Cap,” he stated before moving past Liam and into the main room with his heart stuttering a little too fast for his liking.

He was only snapped out of his daze by the shushes of Horan and Boynton alerting Zayn to their current activity.

“Right what’s all this then?” Zayn asked looking curiously at the two men surrounding a sleeping Samuels with his mouth embarrassingly agape. “He’s already asleep? We just got back. And here I thought I could sleep through anything,” Zayn quipped.

“We’re seeing how many of these we can get into Andy’s mouth without him budging,” Horan explained, his face looking far too delighted to considered normal, a bag of small candies in hand.

“Because we’re 13 years old?” Zayn asked, looking less amused than the others.

“Let ‘em do it, Malik. You can’t stop them,” Gutierrez said looking equally unamused from where she sat.

Horan turned to Zayn taking placing his candy toss on pause, “C’mon, Probie, let’s see what you got.”

Before Zayn could give his answer, Liam entered looking unimpressed at his men’s antics. Rather than gauging his reaction to cast his answer, Zayn used this opportunity to reel the Captain in further.

“Yeah, sure I’ll give it a go…Only if Cap does it with me,” Zayn turned to his now flustered captain, providing a smug and equivalently challenging look.

“Give it a go, Payne,” Horan said before tossing another piece towards Samuels’ slouched figure.

Without another word, and a slight shake of the head as Liam relinquished any ounce of professionalism he had left, the two men both grabbed a handful of the sweets before giving each other one more contentious look, and the bout commenced. With both Horan and Boynton trying to contain their laughter and excitement in hopes of leaving Samuels’ slumber undisturbed, Zayn and Liam continued pelting the man with the sour candies, their faces growing more competitive by the second. When both the captain and candidate successfully landed their pieces directly in Samuels’ mouth that he woke up with a startle. Appearing disoriented, Horan let out a roar of excitement causing the once sleeping firefighter to discard the sweets in his mouth. Everyone in the room belted out their laughter, causing Zayn’s face to redden as he turned to his captain now laughing with the crew.

“Looks like we got a new Malik-Payne dream team in the house!” Horan bellowed, getting up to playfully wrap his arms around the captain’s neck.

Zayn looked to Liam as Horan attempted to take the muscular man down. Liam offered Zayn a wink before shoving the Irishman off of him. Zayn’s breath wavered at the intimate divulgence the captain sent his way. _Malik-Payne dream team._

Perhaps what Niall had shared with Zayn at the pub that night held some truth. Was Zayn being seen as the rest of the men? Or were the increasingly private moments between the two men and indication of something more fervent taking place? Or was a naive fire candidate reading way too closely into his interactions with a man he fancied beyond a feasible notion?

Zayn held onto the idea that their relationship was finally to the point where lingering tension could be easily swayed by a collection of successful occurrences on the job. Zayn was proving a finer asset than the house originally considered him after all.

After getting an earful from Samuels about the “rude disturbance of his peaceful siesta”, the men went about the usual firehouse routines. Liam opting to take advantage of the unoccupied weight section of the garage while Horan, Boynton, and Roberts chose to kick a football around the front of the station entertaining any young passerby’s that made their way past, gaping at the large engines.

Since there was no formally appointed cook for the shift, Zayn had generously volunteered his efforts, designating Gutierrez his sous-chef seeing as her Spaniard-Moroccan roots “would do a world of good in the rigorous discipline of spice management” as described by Zayn. The two embarked on their culinary journey, the station soon filled with the alluring aroma of grilled onions and the garam masala he had sneaked into the shopping cart hours prior. Zayn opted for a simple chicken Karahi intent on sharing the cuisine of his childhood with his newly appointed team-turned-almost-family. The fragrant dishes soon lured Horan and Samuels inside with Boynton following hesitantly on their tail.

“We’re just lettin’ anyone take over the kitchen now or what?” Boynton remarked, the partial implications weighing heavy in the air around them.

Zayn stiffened as he continued to mind the dishes on the stove, choosing to ignore the remark for the sake of everyone’s unperturbed evening. His intent focus on getting the food out and served prevented his paying mind to the now sweaty and flushed and _shirtless_ captain that entered through the double doors.

“You can either stop while you’re ahead or I’ll be sure Cap has you on cleaning duty for the rest of the month, Boynton,” Gutierrez warned Boynton loudly, waving a spatula for added measure.

Liam examined the current situation he had walked into, taking note of Zayn’s cowered stance as he continued preparing the evening’s meal. Zayn didn’t notice the look of warning Liam cast in Boynton’s direction before sidling up to Zayn at the stove.

“What you got there? Smells amazing.”

The captain’s subdued tone drew a shiver up Zayn’s spine, erupting a feeling in his chest one can only identify as unadulterated elation. Zayn mustered a prideful expression only for Liam’s eyes as he breathed through a response.

“My mum’s recipe. She learned it after marrying my dad. Traditional Pakistani dish, quite easy to make actually.” Zayn took note of their proximity, the captain's shirtless form nearly pressed up to Zayn’s side as he leaned over, taking in the sweet-smelling spices. Knowing Zayn’s antics in the kitchen was the cause of Liam’s blissed-out expression was a feeling Zayn could hardly compare to anything else he’d experienced on this planet. Liam contemplated each element of the plate in meticulous detail, warming Zayn’s heart to know the man took interest in the dishes of his culture.

“Color me impressed, Malik, I can’t wait to give it a try,” he shared, every word felt like a genuine affirmation, “I’ll be back shortly, gotta change first.”

Zayn and Gutierrez finished preparing the food before serving the squad in the main living area. Nods and grunts of approval were heard all around, with the chief commending Zayn for his impressive expertise. The candidate gathered the dishes and had his workspace wiped down pristinely before the remaining men in the common area turned in for the night. Everyone had spoken of their hopes for a restful sleep, but that was hardly likely given the recent flare of calls they had been summoned to as of late. Zayn had texted pictures of the dishes he made to his mother before turning in himself, a plentiful eight hours of relaxation on the forefront of a restless mind. _One can dream._

*****

Zayn should’ve known a good night’s rest was rarely an attainable feat on a thankless job such as this one. He was sharply awoken to the dispatch alarm alerting them to a large studio fire near Holland Park. It couldn’t have been later than three in the morning when the crew began to gear up at their bedsides. Chief Deluca stormed in informing them that multiple units were being rerouted to the scene as well. Zayn took his seat in the engine quickly, Horan and the captain following while Samuels and Boynton made a beeline for the truck and tiller. As Liam instructed the two men he was riding with of their roles while on scene, Zayn felt his heart rate pick up, all but drowning out Liam’s demands.

When they arrived at the blaze, Zayn gaped at just how excessive the damage caused by raging flames was. The candidate’s once hopeful attitude rapidly diminished by the ominous scene towering before him. Given the apparent square footage of the studio, there was a lot that could go wrong.

“They're saying unauthorized occupants left a space heater running, blew out the whole circuit. This thing won’t be dying down anytime soon!” Zayn heard Liam yell to Samuels as he secured his mask and grabbed his ax, preparing for entry.

Zayn shook the feeling of dread as he advanced towards the only accessible entrance to the building with Horan to his left.

“Did they say how many were estimated to be inside?” Zayn asked, yelling over the ever-encroaching roar of the flames.

“Couldn’t have been many, it should’ve been empty this late. Maybe a couple of people at most. Station forty-six is sweeping the back half of the building. They could’ve already pulled someone out.”

Zayn processed Horan’s response before filing into the building. The domineering flames obstructing any view he could have possibly used to search the place. Zayn shuffled along the wall in hopes that anyone would enter his line of sight.

“Fire Brigade, call out!” He yelled before continuing further into the deteriorating structure.

He made sure Horan remained visible before advancing through each room. Continuing to call out, Zayn used his ax to permeate every closed door too hot to touch. It was only when he entered a large open expanse that he heeded the loft hanging overhead. Amongst the thundering flames and blinding smoke, Zayn could make out the bed sheets and pillows that lay atop the elevated area. He had no way of knowing if that was where whoever was occupying the studio was living. With quick deliberation and a prayer that his judgment was correct, Zayn began climbing the makeshift ladder along the wall not yet enveloped in flames to access the assumed living space. About halfway up the ladder, a crackling message came through his radio.

“ _This thing's gonna blow, Horan, Malik, evacuate now!_ ” He heard Liam instruct. Zayn did what he thought was best and informed the captain of his current endeavor.

“Cap, I may have located someone living in the loft. I need to find out who's up here.”

“ _Did you get a response when you called out_?”

“Negative, there could be someone unconscious up here!” Zayn alerted as he proceeded up the ladder.

 _“Malik, I want you out of there now. You don’t have any time_.” He heard Liam say in a panicked, yet stern modulation.

Zayn did what he knew would get him in a great deal of trouble, he continued to climb. His only target was getting to whoever was living in this studio. The smoke could have caused them a loss of consciousness before any realization of a fire brewing dawned on them. Zayn’s heart raced as his vision narrowed, _tunnel vision._ He had a goal, he had a plan, evacuate with those in need of saving. He continued on, the weight of his gear making the journey upwards to the loft all the more strenuous. Zayn felt the rush settle in his bones, determination mixed with adrenaline, mixed with the need to _conquer_ this impediment.

“ _Malik! Fall back! That’s an order!_ ” He heard Liam yell over the radio, a thin line between fear and fierceness interlaced in his voice.

“ _Do NOT disobey my command, I said fall back!_ ”

“Let’s go, now! We gotta get out of here!” Horan shouted from below.

Zayn felt the fury and frustration arise as he indignantly began retreating from the loft, making his way back down the ladder. “Fuck!” He yelled in frustration before heading out of the studio the same way he had entered, with Horan hot on his heels. “Fuck!” He screamed again as he stalked towards the vehicles parked across the lot, taking off his mask and helmet before slamming his gloved hand against the side of the engine.

“Watch yourself, Candidate!” Liam warned, causing the burning in Zayn’s belly to climb upwards ever so slightly. Zayn took a breath before hazarding out a response.

“I had time! I could’ve ID’d where they were! I could’ve gotten them out! I had time, damn—”

At that moment, as if the gods were cursing Zayn for his brazen behavior, the building behind them erupted, flames blasting through every window still intact. Zayn looked back, horrified at the scene, no way of knowing what they had just walked out of.

“We didn’t have time,” Horan said softly, sympathy overriding his features, “we had no way of knowing who was up there, _if_ anyone was up there.”

“Yeah and now we won’t know who we couldn’t get to until the fucking inspection tomorrow!” Zayn challenged.

“Payne, get your men in order, now,” Zayn heard the chief telling Liam as they monitored Zayn’s outburst.

Liam didn’t make a move to reason with the distressed candidate or ease his internal tribulation. Zayn stood still, his head settled against the engine as the scene in front of them began winding down, ambulances commencing on their routes to the nearest hospital. Each member of the house, aside from Roberts and Gutierrez, reentered the vehicles, starting the sullen venture back to the station. Zayn remained quiet, contemplative, in a similar state he had found his captain in just weeks before. His gaze steady on the road ahead from the backseat, yet it remained hollow. Liam only glancing back once to survey the defeated candidate.

Pulling into the station, Zayn felt the weight of the call burden his every step. _Pain, remorse, exasperation, vanquish._ Nothing more than dwelling the unknown, or possibly the inevitable. Zayn remained in the gear closet as the crew discarded their uniforms and returned to their beds. He stood, staring blankly at nothing, until he felt the realization of recent events drag him down. Taking a seat on the floor beneath his hung-up coat, Zayn drew his knees to his chest, thinking of what could’ve been a better outcome of the midnight call.

He focussed on the sting of his heart, not looking up when someone quietly entered the closet. Liam looked down at Zayn curled in on himself, offering an equally sympathetic glance to the one Horan had given earlier. The captain sat next to Zayn, moving to press his shoulder against the sulking man. For a while, the two of them just sat, breathing steadily, keeping both their eyes fixed on the wall in front of them until Liam finally spoke up.

“You get used to it. That feeling you’re having right now.”

Zayn looked down, finding the laces of his boots particularly interesting.

“There were so many that _I_ couldn’t save, Zayn, so many,” Liam continued, using what Zayn had said to him before in hopes of drawing out any indication that Zayn was there, extant in the moment, “It eats at you, it stays with you. You’ll find solace in the fact that our lives go on, even if theirs don’t. And we’ll keep fighting these fights until we can’t take it anymore. That’s why we’re willing to go to war for it, right? To die for it.”

Zayn sighed, finally speaking up, “After a while, you start wondering what the hell were we even fighting for? What the _hell_ are we fighting for?” Zayn was holding on to every last bit of dignity he had for as long as he could, fighting the knot in his throat that threatened to overtake him. He glanced over to Liam, sharing a look of sorrowful understanding.

“We do what we do because we love it. Every part of it. Don’t discard the feeling you’re having right now. Hold on to it. Sometimes all you can do is feel it. But that’s better than the alternative,” Liam reasoned. Zayn knew what he was alluding to. The soldiers beside him in combat, the ones with no life left in their eyes, men and women merely hollow shells of who they once were.

Zayn was now exceedingly aware of Liam’s presence in relation to his own. Perhaps feeling the warmth of the body next to him should be an indicator that the two were far too close to be considered a professional consolation. Liam appeared to be aware of their placement but made no move to further it. Zayn nearly felt Liam’s breath hovering over his tanned skin.

“You and I, we’ve seen enough destruction to last a lifetime, yeah?”

“Seems twisted, doesn't it?” Zayn scoffed, scorning his own resentment for the job he volunteered to do.

“It doesn’t have to feel right for you to love it, Zayn,” Using his first name drew Zayn in more intently to every syllable on Liam’s tongue, the moment feeling ever more profound, just for the two of them, in the closet, _ironically_ , underneath coats covered in chemicals that will no doubt leave lasting effects some decades down the line. Zayn couldn’t take his eyes off the alluring man knowing precisely the right words, words that would have a whole lot less tenor if it weren’t for the person speaking them.

“There’s so much I see of myself in you, it terrifies me to be quite honest.”Zayn listened carefully, unsure to make of Liam’s subtle admission.

“Liam you—“ Zayn started, holding Liam’s gaze as he fumbled out the words, “I admire you, you know? It feels like you’re everything I’m not," Zayn scoffed. "You don’t break, you can’t, and everyone’s always expected not to. I feel myself crumble with everything I can't do. You’re _not me_ and you’re… _everything_ I hope to one day be in this.”

Before Zayn had time to see Liam’s reaction to his sentiment, Liam leaned in and Zayn felt plump lips meet his own, a spark igniting in him as he tried to comprehend what was happening. He kissed Liam back with equal passion as their tongues met. Zayn felt a large warm hand grab hold of his waist as his own hand came up to cup Liam’s stubbled cheek, his other hand going to the back of Liam’s neck deepening the kiss further. The swift action must’ve alerted Liam of his own actions because as quickly as the kiss had begun, it was over, Liam pulling away and standing up with a jolt. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, “Zayn I—I’m sorry I-fuck” Liam sputtered before storming out of the closet. _And then there was one._

Zayn sat there frozen, the only indicator of what had happened being his swollen lips that he touched softly. He looked around before getting up, stretching his once folded body before leaving the closet and heading into the sleeping quarters. He heard Liam’s office door shut softly before getting into his bed, the only sound Zayn could decipher was Horan’s snores across the room. He peered at Liam’s door once more before letting his head hit his pillow. Staring at the ceiling, harboring a final thought before sleep overtook him. _What the fuck just happened?_


	5. Five

The hot spray of water did little to alleviate his sore muscles. The scent of eucalyptus and lavender sharpening his senses as the steam swirled around him. He braced himself against the tiled wall trying to collect himself as his thoughts swarmed, raging at the events that had transpired. He reminisced the way his heart raced, the intoxicating feeling of sharing a moment so intimate, so _scandalous,_ so full of passion and exhilaration. The feeling of Liam’s hands, caressing him in a moment of sincerity, vulnerability, but taken from him as quickly as it came.

Zayn played the moment over countless times, the way Liam had grabbed hold of him, his lips fitting seamlessly with Zayn’s, like they contained an answer to unnoticed questions, to hypotheticals left unfulfilled. He questioned if Liam’s feelings for Zayn were just as profound as his own. Or had it simply been a moment of weakness? A moment Zayn just happened to be in the crossfire of, the one who conveniently was left for Liam to confide in a string of emotions after a maelstrom of a call? Relieved to be sorting out his thoughts in the confines of his own home for once, in his own uninterrupted space, Zayn considered his roommate who was undoubtedly waiting for more details of the bewildering incident on the other side of the bathroom door.

“Louis, I am so incredibly fucked,” Zayn had said after rushing home, nearly stumbling through their front door. He leaned against the closed door, before dropping his bag and other belongings on the floor in a heap.

Liam avoided Zayn the entire remainder of their shift, briskly walking out of every room Zayn had entered leaving the candidate no opportunity to approach the captain regarding the events that unfolded in the closet. With nothing more than the memory of Liam’s soft lips and the warmth of his hand on Zayn’s midsection replaying in his head on an endless, tormenting loop, Zayn rushed home, barely remembering to lock his car before rushing into his shared flat, still dazed and breathless.

“Jesus, Zee, what the hell happened to you?” Louis looked at his disoriented roommate incredulously.

“He—and I—and he—fuck I’m gonna lose my fucking job, Lou!”

“Woah woah, calm down, take a breath, tell me what happened.”

Louis guided his flustered friend to the couch before giving him the go-ahead to speak once more. Zayn regained his composure, before finally allowing himself to explain.

“Liam kissed me,” Louis’ eyes widened at the sudden admission, “and I kissed him back and it was everything I could’ve wanted and then he—he just fled. Oh god, this is so fucked.”

Zayn held his head in his hands and began to process all that had occurred in the last forty-eight hours.

“Well…is he a good kisser?” Louis asked before Zayn shoved him, “Oi, I just want to know if it’s worth losing your job over!”

“This isn’t funny, he won’t talk to me, he won’t look at me, I don’t know what to make of this, of him, of any of it,” Zayn couldn’t begin to imagine what going back to work in two days would be like, if he could even muster the courage to drive himself back to the station. That was before his full realization had set in.

“Oh god, the pub. I told Horan I’d join them again tomorrow night. I can’t even—,” the horrified look occupying Zayn’s face forewarned Louis of the severity of the predicament he found his friend in.

“Okay okay, take it easy. You don’t have to go anywhere,” he comforted, “Or…I could join, for what it’s worth, I make a pretty decent buffer when it counts.” Zayn mulled over his options before settling on the ladder, wanting to avoid any volatility with his crew at all costs.

After a final moment of contemplation and a room left engulfed in steam, Zayn shut off the water and entered his bedroom. He grabbed at articles of clothing mindlessly, throwing on a simple back t-shirt and grey joggers before opting for his glasses, in hopes of doing little, if anything, to conceal the dark circles left from a sleepless night. The last thing Zayn needed was his coworkers giving him trouble for not using their limited time off wisely and partaking in much-needed self-care.

He and Louis drove over to the pub at half-past eight, the sky darkening and the metropolitan nightlife commencing, the two entered the sufficiently crowded establishment. Zayn scanned the room before he heard a peal of bellowing laughter that could not be mistaken for Niall’s coming from a table towards the back of the pub. Zayn took a breath before turning to Louis, “Here goes nothing,” he said before leading Louis to the table occupied by three firemen and one medic.

“Zayn! You traded up for a library job or summat?” Niall called out, gesturing to his glasses when he noticed the two men approaching their table.

“Very funny, Horan,” Zayn replied, looking over to make sure that Louis was still indeed next to him.

“And who’s this?” Niall asked, looking to the shorter man who now wore a tight smile.

“Everyone this is Louis, roommate, friend, and esteemed Public Health doctoral candidate,” Zayn introduced, intentionally keeping his eyes trained on Niall, Andy, and Nathan, _anyone_ but the captain sitting at the far end of the table. Louis rolled his eyes before shaking the men’s hands, saving his attention for Liam last. Liam visibly stiffened upon being addressed, keeping his eyes trained on the glass in front of him after taking Louis’ hand reluctantly. He was actively avoiding the fleeting glances Zayn offered once he settled in beside Andy.

The conversation flowed easily amongst those willing to engage, with Niall taking an immediate liking to Louis and his quick wit. Nathan maintained a consistent rotation of pints to their table as the night progressed, the flow of foot traffic steadily decreasing and increasing with the hour. Zayn and Liam’s deliberate silence went mostly unnoticed until Niall nudged Liam, offering a questioning glance. Liam smiled tightly before quickly excusing himself and making a beeline for the bathroom. Niall turned to Zayn who looked just as perturbed as Liam most likely felt.

With a quiet, “Excuse me,” Zayn got up and followed Liam towards the back of the pub, determination carrying his every step, throwing caution to the wind as he entered the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“You and I are going to talk,” Zayn demanded. Liam’s back was turned to him with one arm bracing the sink and the other fiddling with the chain underneath his shirt. Zayn could Liam’s distraught expression in the mirror, before the man turned and faced him.

“Zayn—”

“What the hell happened between us?” Zayn asked suddenly, refusing to let the man in front of him get the first word. Liam’s actions after their kiss left Zayn confused, agitated, _hurt?_

“You can’t— you can’t just _do_ that and then treat me like I don’t exist, like I’m no longer a part of the house, seriously Liam.”

Liam remained silent, allowing Zayn to express his frustrations before saying his piece.

“I am so sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I value my job. I _like_ my job, I respect my rank, I don’t know what possessed me to jeopardize that. I’ve been going over it again and again and I can’t stop and I’m just so sorry to put you in that position, Malik.”

Zayn could see the sorrow evident on the man’s face. He felt something tug in his chest as he listened to Liam’s concession. But Zayn didn’t want him to feel sorry, he didn’t want the beautiful man in front of him to feel remorse for making Zayn feel _alive_ in a way he hadn’t in years. 

“Why’d you do it?” His words were soft, questioning the captain in a mere whisper.

“I can’t—,” Liam rubbed the back of his neck. He looked distraught, searching for something in the small space to train his eyes on before meeting Zayn’s gaze once again, “We can’t discuss this. I value my job too much—look, it’s forgotten. Can we forget this, please? All of it? Forget it happened?” His expression went blank once again, his tone turning hard like steel, nearly robotic, something Zayn hadn’t experienced with the man since the aftermath of the last time they were at this very pub.

How was Zayn able to awaken every part of Liam and shut it down all at once? Zayn's demeanor turned equally cold, feeling shot down, defeated, his hope for a positive reconciliation diminished. His capacity for defiance taking the reins of the situation as his stubbornness got the best of him.

“Whatever you say, Captain.”

And just like that, the two were back to square one. A guarded officer who saw his candidate as nothing more than a new name on the roster, another body to look for in every burning building, another seat filled in the engine, nothing more than an inferior officer. Zayn turned and left the bathroom in a huff, refusing to turn around when he heard a quiet “Zayn” before letting the door close behind him. Any means of pervading Liam’s hard exterior vanishing with each step toward the pub’s exit. Zayn patted Louis indicating his intentions to leave as he moved past the table muttering a quick apology and farewell.

Zayn preserved his blank expression the entire ride home, eyes distant, feeble attempts at getting his raging thoughts sorted not going unnoticed by his Louis. Sending Zayn worried glances throughout, the distrait man was all consumed by thoughts of new feelings, foolish sentiments, false hope, a man who often came to his defense, succumbed to his reassurance, with a kind smile, and an even-tempered way of commanding a room. Zayn was drawn to the man in a manner hard for even himself to comprehend. Feelings long overdue, he could have only hoped to experience the rush of passion, the flourishing feelings sooner than twenty-seven years old. Perhaps then he’d know how to seize it, go about his life like a perfectly _functional_ working man. Perhaps life would be different had he not used the excuse of going abroad to escape the impending doom that came with paralyzing infatuation, a mind blurred by overly idealist outcomes and yearning thoughts.

Climbing into bed with a toss and turn, Zayn thought back to Tyler, what their lives were like before he “threw it all away to abet a savior complex that would ultimately kill him” as Tyler had said the last time they interacted. Was that what love was? The idea that you share your life with someone in exchange for occasionally joyous moments, the thrill that comes with giving yourself to someone, becoming depleted by the presence of another? Leaving home, diving headfirst into dangerous and unknown circumstances seemed to be the only way Zayn could acquire the intense feeling of belonging, to a purpose, to knowing what home felt like simply through a single sentiment. Zayn found something invigorating in the rush he got, working in grueling, often meticulous conditions, under the guise of not knowing whether he’d live or die. It was Zayn’s calm, something he had yet found in someone else. Something he could never possibly find in someone else.

*****

The days passed in a blur, even as he entered the station on his first day back after the deplorable call from the shift prior, Zayn’s conflicting emotions of anxiety, the feeling of dejection, the uncertainty of what his job would look like from here on weighed heavily. He got dressed silently, offering forced smiles to anyone who greeted him. Grateful that he hadn’t seen the captain yet, he made his way to the main room, taking a seat before hearing any updates from the chief.Chief Deluca surveyed the room, the crew gathered around the table except for one Liam Payne who had not yet left his office.

“Just got a hold of the report from the studio fire on Melbury. The cause of the fire was an overheated circuit being used in a non-permitted residence. Forty-six was able to evacuate two unauthorized occupants upon our arrival to the scene,” Deluca began, Zayn braced himself for the information that was bound to come next.

“There was one casualty. A female body was recovered during the arson investigation.”

Zayn held his breath, fingers digging into his palms as the rest of the room looked visibly shaken by the revelation. The chief droned on, listing tasks and appointing roles that needed to be carried out by the end of shift. When he finished, Zayn got out of his chair and moved to the sleeping quarters, making sure to avoid meeting anyone’s gaze as he rushed to the back. He needed to _think,_ to wrap his head around every possible outcome to every fucked up scenario he found himself in. Trying to understand how they were hailed heroes when they failed to do what was expected of them. Zayn is not overly impressionable, he knew what he was signing up for upon his enrollment in the recruitment academy, but he had to make peace with the fact that the job was not _real_ , until it was.

“Having fun with that mindful meditation, Probie? We’re on polishing duty today, let’s go!”

Zayn hadn’t heard Samuels come into the room, too preoccupied with his own rumination. He got up and followed Samuels to the garage, only stopping when a door opened in front of him. Liam closed his door gingerly before looking up, eyes widening as he took in Zayn’s presence before him.

“What, you weren’t expecting me?” Zayn asked coldly, eliciting faux confidence in hopes it would conceal what lied just underneath the surface.

“Good morning, Candidate.” Liam met his gaze steadily, a look of discomfort that he quickly obscured.

Zayn brushed past the captain, rolling his eyes as he departed into the garage. He was frustrated at the glaringly obvious elephant that sat beside the both of them, something Zayn couldn’t easily forget as the other man apparently could. Had Liam’s moment of weakness been so insignificant, why did it have to happen in the first place? And with _Zayn,_ his candidate, someone who could easily get fired if anyone had been near them to discover the unfortunate events happening under the station’s roof.

Zayn planned to avoid raising any suspicions in the house. His impromptu exit at the pub just a day prior not offering much to save him in the increasingly difficult endeavor. Rather than indulging himself in yet another fit of brooding, he put on a smile and enthusiastically carried out his firehouse duties. Samuels tossed Zayn a towel and the two began wiping down the engine before Samuels brought the truck around to the front of the station captivating a small group of schoolchildren who’d conveniently been walking past at that moment. Zayn smiled at the children’s astonished faces before the young girl started tugging on the sleeve of her supposed caretaker, pointing to the big red truck, inching closer. The three boys surrounding her quickly approached the apparatus as Samuels sent them a welcoming smile. The woman watching them warned them to be careful before the fireman took matters into his own hands and opened up all the doors for the kids to gawk at the interior.

Zayn looked on from a few feet back, pleasantly surprised to see Samuels’ delightful change in attitude. Who knew a man full of countless obscenities at any given moment could become putty in the hands of four youngsters? Zayn didn’t notice Liam discreetly entering the opposite side of the truck before he came out on their side towering over the kids with one of his signatures smiles, the one that had _Zayn_ as putty in his captain’s hands.

“Who are _you_?” The young girl asked incredulously.

“Who am I? I’m the captain of this truck!” Liam’s animation made Zayn’s heart flutter. He was quite sure he looked just as amazed as the children, but could do little to disguise it at the moment.

“Does that mean you’re the boss?” Asked another boy.

“Well don’t tell the chief that but I’d say so.”

“So you tell people where to go in the fires?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

Liam was clearly happy to indulge the kids’ wide-eyed curiosities, answering all the questions they raised. They could hardly contain their excitement when he helped them up the steps and welcomed them to take a look inside the vehicle. Zayn chuckled, impressed with Liam’s patience as each child fought over who’d be the “captain” amongst the group. _Liam’s a natural._ Their caretaker snapped a few photos before turning to Zayn, asking him to take a photo of all of them together, Samuels included. Zayn happily obliged, and if he only focussed on Liam through the phone screen as he counted back to one, no one had to know that.

As Zayn returned the phone to the woman, the three men heard a commotion coming from the garage. “Vehicle collision near town hall, let’s go!” Boynton called out as the crew began suiting up.

Liam turned back to the children and bent down to their level. With a smug look and a wink he asked, “Want to see us in action?”

The kids gave him a resounding yes and he directed the group over to the sidewalk so they could safely witness the squad’s swift departure. As they hurried over to their gear, Zayn assiduously refrained from complimenting the captain’s treatment of the civilians. Had this been a week prior, the candidate would’ve loved to express his respect for the man who supposedly could do it all. No longer was a forthright avenue of communication attainable between the two of them. Zayn shook his head as he stepped into his turnout gear, mourning the loss of an evolving ally ship quashed in a matter of moments. Liam was fully in captain-mode once again as he quickly conferred with Chief Deluca before taking his seat in the engine besides Horan. The rest of the crew filed in, with Roberts and Gutierrez already fleeing the station, sirens blazing.

Liam peered over to the kids from his seat in the engine and waved before turning on the lights and sirens. Receiving countless cheers from the group as they waved goodbye, they were off in a flash.

“Daddy Payno,” Zayn heard Horan say to the captain over their headphones. Liam shouldered his crewmate before allotting each man his responsibilities upon their arrival. Zayn listened on, briefly catching Liam’s eyes in the rearview mirror before the captain looked to the streets flying by once again. At this rate, there was no way of telling what the man was feeling for Zayn.

They stormed through every stoplight in record time, arriving on the scene in a matter of minutes. Zayn gauged the men’s reactions to the scene before he himself had the conviction to look. But it was Samuels’ exasperated “Fuck me” that had Zayn turning his head. Zayn examined the site they were pulling up to through his window. It was like something out of a film, there were at least four cars scattered or overturned at the intersection surrounding a massive bus that had been completely flipped on its side. Other emergency response vehicles were pulling up as the crew exited the engine. Chief Deluca pulled up beside them in his squad car before bounding towards his men.

“Chief Wilson from twenty-six was first on-site. This is looking like a triage situation. There’re about sixty people on board and another six or seven in the surrounding vehicles,” the chief informed, looking just as distraught as Zayn felt. “I trust you all to classify accordingly. Payne, you can take it from here.”

Liam looked to his team before securing his helmet, “Start evacuating anyone who’s able to get out of the bus on their own. Direct priority three’s over to ambulance 15 and we’ll go from there.”

And just like that, they were off. This was Zayn’s first dispatch that could be considered a potential mass casualty event. He felt his adrenaline spike as he surveyed the scene. Other stations and rescue squads had already begun tending to those in their vehicles. He followed the other firefighters to the bus and began directing people who were able to climb through the back window to the staging area for minor injuries. The blood pumping quickly in his veins prevented any chance of Zayn feeling ill as he saw the number of adolescents struggling, screaming, pleading to get out.

“Keep coming slowly, avoid the glass,” he urged as he ushered more and more distraught civilians out of harm’s way.

Zayn scanned the scene carefully, the numbers of people remaining inside the bus dwindling as each moment passed. He could make out the captain and Horan at the other end stabilizing the driver for extraction. That’s when he heard it, a muffled shout coming from underneath the bus.Zayn’s face paled at the aggrieved noises coming from below. Thinking on his feet, he sprinted over to Roberts and grabbed the neck brace he had ready at hand before running back over to the bus.

“I got someone trapped under the bus!” He yelled to no one in particular, looking to the front of the bus once more. “Cap, we need those airbags over here!”

Zayn strode around the large apparatus until he found an opening where he could see underneath. The bus had turned onto the sidewalk, leaving a pocket of space for someone to get trapped. Without hesitation, Zayn lowered himself onto the street and wriggled his head and shoulders underneath. With a torch in hand and brace in the other, he illuminated the face of a young man, a boy, possibly only sixteen or seventeen in age.

“Hold tight, let me get this on you. What’s your name?” He asked calmly as he adjusted the brace around the boy’s neck. 

“Ethan. Am I gonna get out of here?” The boy asked in a winded panic, his green eyes wide in distress. The weight of the bus was compressing his chest, and the backpack he had on didn’t help to evade his vital organs of the added pressure. His face looked slightly bruised and bloodied, clearly suffering from a broken nose from what Zayn could ascertain.

“Don’t worry, man. You'll be alright. You’ve got London’s finest here to help.” He had hoped that by keeping his tone conversational and light, he’d ease the boy of at least some of his anxiety, as little as could be expected, “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Don’t worry, man. ‘M not going anywhere,” Ethan replied, evidently more eased at Zayn’s composure. Having decent social skills on the job didn’t hurt either.

Zayn inched his way back out from under the bus and looked around, “I need those airbags, now!” He yelled, hoping to get at least a few of his crewmates moving. Boynton and Samuels hurried over with the materials. As they began cribbing off the vehicle with the stabilization blocks, Zayn dived back under the bus and back towards the boy. His sole focus was to provide any reassurance possible.

“It shouldn’t be much longer, we’ll get you out of here in one piece, okay?”

“I’ll definitely have a good story to tell the ladies now.”

Zayn smiled at the boy’s remark, offering a comforting squeeze of Ethan’s arm. Something about the boy’s sprightly candor even in the most unnerving situation he’ll probably ever find himself in reminded Zayn a bit of himself, his younger wide-eyed pre-deployment self, unquestionably ready to conquer the world, eyes shining brightly towards a realm of endless possibilities. But here he was, underneath a bus that could surely crush him to death without a moment’s hesitation, praying to a higher power that his coworkers’ competence will save his own ass.

Zayn turned back to see the two men at a standstill, “What the hell is taking you? Start inflating!” He shouted from his downright position.

“The bus hasn’t been fully evacuated, Malik!” Boynton practically spat.

Zayn looked over to Ethan who was keeping his gaze steadily trained on the candidate’s face. He reached over and grabbed for the boy’s arm, hoping to offer any ounce of repose as the seconds dragged on. Zayn’s apprehension must’ve been apparent because the boy offered a small, “It’s okay, we’ll be fine”.

Zayn chuckled darkly, he should be the one offering the consolation, but he knew nothing would deter him from remaining exactly where he lied. He heard the airbags beginning to inflate and looked back to see Samuels and Boynton beginning the extrication process. Zayn sighed in relief before smiling at the boy.

“Mate, you’ll definitely have a solid story to tell,” he said with a smile.

As the bus began to ascend upwards, Zayn crawled out once more to get ahold of the backboard. He surveyed his surroundings once more before they landed on Liam standing just a few feet away monitoring their activity.

“Cap I need you to get on the other side of him and help me get his backpack off so I can slide the board under.”

Just as Liam was about ready to slide under with the candidate, he halted his movements unexpectedly before gesturing to Horan. “Horan, get under with Malik,” he said, taking a step back to his original position.

 _What the fuck was that? He’s letting this impact his duties now?_ Zayn only had seconds to understand why the sudden change in Liam’s resolve. The captain always seemed prepared to run towards the fire, both literally and figuratively speaking. Was he now being overly cautious of his proximity to Zayn and _what that fuck_? Was he not the one to say forget it ever happened?

Zayn pushed his thoughts to the side as he slithered his way to Ethan once again. Mental compartmentalization was another added benefit to the job. Horan started hacking at the backpack and the candidate got Ethan onto the board and began pulling him out as safely and quickly as they could. Zayn could finally breathe again as they carried the boy towards Gutierrez. When they had finished lifting the boy on the stretcher, Ethan grabbed onto Zayn’s jacket, halting him in his path.

“Hey,” he said languidly, “you’re a proper badass, you know.”

Zayn warmed at the boy’s coarse endearment. “ _We do what we do because we love it, every part of it…that’s why we’re willing to go to war for it. To die for it.”_ Liam’s words echoed in Zayn’s head like a mantra. It was truly an unmatched high, the warmth in Zayn’s chest, the feeling of pride mixed with the impulse to shed every emotion preventing the prospect of weightless flight.

For the next half hour, the crew continued to triage the victims, getting priority one patients onto the first available ambulance for transport. After tending to the minor injuries that remained on the scene, Zayn gathered his first-aid supplies and retreated to the engine. His eyes set on the man reloading the materials into the vehicle and Zayn hardened. Feelings of hostility and aggravation overtook his body. As he approached Liam, he felt himself getting stiffer with every additional pronouncement he had a mind to shout the captain’s way. His posture did not go unnoticed. Rather than commending Zayn on his sharp thinking and sensible response as the squad members had done, as _Liam_ had done on many calls prior, he simply met Zayn’s gaze steadily, and with a neutral “Candidate” to acknowledge his presence, they were on their way.

Zayn was practically shaking with the rancor he felt. It wasn’t quite rage or even frustration, it was perhaps something bordering the line of betrayal. It was Liam who’d gone jeopardizing what could’ve been something meaningful, something good, maybe even great. It was Liam who had told him to forget about anything ever happening. It was Liam who was treating him like he barely had a legitimate place in the house anymore. It was Liam who practically pulverized any chance of Zayn living out his fantasies and his unrequited crush in peace. It was his captain’s fault and yet, Zayn was on the receiving end of blows that Liam should be rightfully self-inflicting.

Zayn was the first to hop out of the engine, discarding his gear as he went. All he’d wanted was a painless end to the shift, something that would certainly not arrive with any promptness. He left the gear closet quickly before brushing past Liam, their arms just barely knocking as Zayn entered through the doors of the station. “Malik,” he heard Liam call sternly, but Zayn didn’t make a move to respond, opting to head straight to his sleeping quarters. At this rate, no repercussions he could suffer would amount to the burden he felt every time he reentered the house.

He laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling. With no intentions to engage with the crew or their midday banter. Their suspicions be damned, he lied in silence. Contemplating whether or not the highs and lows were truly worth his efforts.

*****

Thankfully, the bus incident had been the pinnacle of their shift. Zayn felt nothing but relief to go home after another torpid shift at the fire station. He packed his duffle bag in a hurry before making a quick exit, barely uttering his goodbyes to Horan, Samuels, and the medics. He got into his car and took a few calming breaths. The further from the station he was, the more he could gather his bearings before facing the whirlwind of dramatic antics he would inevitably succumb to the second he entered his flat. Placing his bag on the seat beside him, he turned the key for the ignition, his quick escape well underway. But Zayn had to repeat the motion, and he turned the key again, and again, until there was nothing left for him to do but curse the gods above.

“Oh you’ve got to be bloody joking,” he said, glaring at the unlit dashboard. After a few minutes of thumping his head against the wheel, Zayn got out of his car and started back towards the station. Stopping in the midst, he contemplated his next moves. The last thing Zayn could endure was re-entering the place he was so apt to depart from. He turned back down the sidewalk and climbed atop the hood of his car. The dusk air was nice and Zayn felt the calm settle in his bones. Rather than calling Louis or Harry right away, Zayn chose to lean back and simply ponder how he had gotten here, to this point in time, to this moment in his life where nothing really made sense other than the abiding need to make people’s lives slightly better, if only for a moment. He peered up at the sky fading into the blue that comes just after the gold dissipates. And for a few moments, Zayn breathed, and the world was still.

He was lured out of his semi-mediative state by the sound of an engine approaching. When he realized the sound was nearing rather than dissipating, Zayn sat up looking to see who was approaching. Blinded by the headlights, he couldn’t make out the driver until he was parallel to Zayn and he scoffed. Liam offered him a remorseful look as he put his car into park in the middle of the road.

“No,” was the only thing Zayn said. He had no intentions of engaging with anyone right now, let alone the very source of his current dismay. His social capacity was well expired for the day.

“Zayn, you’re clearly stuck,” Liam reasoned.

“Liam, I am clearly fine,” he mocked, “I’ll call Lou to come and get me.”

“Right the ‘nose to the grindstone’ always studying, ever distracted Louis. No, Zayn, get in the car, I can give you a ride home.” Liam was persistent, which only caused Zayn to feel even more vexed by the man’s fluctuating sentiments.

“I’m not doing this with you right now. I’m fucking exhausted, I’ve no mind to get in that car and sit next to you and- _no_ ,” Zayn pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t quite sure he was making much sense, but at the moment, that was the least of his concerns.

Liam sighed, “I promise, I’m just taking you home, okay?” his sincerity causing Zayn to let up just a bit. The look on the captain’s face making it increasingly difficult to continue this back and forth. After one more moment of scrutinized contemplation, Zayn sighed and hopped off the car hood. He grabbed his duffle bag and steadily entered the car, choosing to look out of his window rather than approach any semblance of a conversation.

The two men drove in silence. Just as Zayn had predicted, the tension was nearly debilitating. He felt it rise in the confined space with every fleeting streetlight. The silence was virulent, but what had Zayn feeling more unsettled was Liam’s own reluctance to speak. Minutes passed before he asked Zayn for direction to his place. Zayn gave them flatly, his eyes fixed on the trees blurring past him.

“You reckon you’d ever become an engineer? Take over for Horan one of these days?” And _really?_ , Zayn thought, _Liam’s trying to small talk right now?_ Zayn ignored him, refusing to indulge him in whatever he was playing at. Zayn’s silence evidently prompted Liam to continue.

“You did a nice job detailing the engine yesterday.”

And that was all Zayn could take. That was all he had the ability to endure before he felt his once commendable composure finally disintegrate. He sat up and that was it.

“Liam, pull the fucking car over, _now_.” And the car screeched to a halt.


	6. Six

_“Liam, pull the car over, now”_

Liam peered over to a nearly-fuming Zayn. Confusion and shock crossed his features as he slammed his breaks, pulling the car over to the side of a quiet street. The moment his car was fully stopped, Zayn unbuckled himself and exited the car before Liam could a word in. He had parked them near a small park primarily overspread with grass, the quiet of the day winding down leaving only the wind rustling the leaves amongst them. Zayn began pacing on the grass, knowing Liam would be out shortly if his duffle bag still sitting in front of his seat was any indicator. Liam got out with an exasperated look that Zayn would laugh at under any other circumstances. Zayn fiddled with the chain around his neck as he turned towards the captain.

“Malik—”

“No, nope. No. Right now, you aren’t my captain. Right now you’re not my superior. _Right now_ , you’re the fucking sod who kissed me and has treated me like _crap_ since.” Zayn only meeting Liam’s gaze to emphasize his position before he had to turn away. His walls were deteriorating and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He looked around aimlessly, unable to gather himself from his declining impassivity.

“Look, Zayn, I’m sorry _._ I’m so sorry. What I did was completely inappropriate and I understand if you want to report-“

“You had no right to do that to me. I was in a million places that night and you saw me there and you made me feel like I could breathe after all of that happened at the fire. Y-you kissed me and you let me feel _alive_ again.”

At this point, Zayn had stopped in his frenzy, finally regaining enough composure to properly look Liam in the eye. The two stood in their places unwavering. Zayn was hopeful Liam could scrutinize Zayn’s disposition, he exuded with the unsaid notions that had him wrapped up tightly until he was nearly suffocating with it.

“You had no right…to make me feel—what I’ve wanted to feel for so long now. You have no right to look at me like that, Liam.” Zayn asserted, his chest ached with it, but the degradation was inevitable at this point.

Liam looked at him incredulously, his mouth gaping at Zayn’s unexpected concession, “Zayn.“

Zayn didn’t notice the man inching closer to him and continued his rant, “You’re the one that caused this, this is on you, this is your fucking fault, Pay—”

But before Zayn could finish, he felt warm hands on his cheeks, he hated the way he melded instantly into the man who had his lips on his once again. Liam kissed Zayn with an intensity he didn’t know existed, his shock lasted a mere second before he kissed back just as fervently. Liam’s arms went down to Zayn’s sides as he turned and placed him against his car.

Zayn grabbed the nape of Liam's neck, breathing him in, allowing their lips to seal the abandoned conversation. At this moment, the unspoken words didn’t matter, the untold admissions could wait because Zayn could feel Liam’s tongue begging a silent plea to deepen their kiss further.

Their chemistry was unmatched, Zayn felt Liam press himself as close as humanely possible and his thoughts swarmed with it. Zayn began to move his hands to the fragment of skin peeking out beneath Liam’s shirt. He felt the warm sculpted body as Liam moved his lips down to Zayn’s neck and this was all just _too much_.

“Liam,” Zayn breathed, becoming gradually more aware of his surroundings by the millisecond.

“Liam, hold on a second.”

Liam halted his pursuit, looking up to meet Zayn’s eyes. There was a fire inside of them that made Zayn’s knees buckle, but they yet remained kind, full of hope, amassed with a need so unfamiliar to Zayn he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked and _fuck, no, never._ He never wanted Liam to stop.

Zayn shook his head, the two men stared at each other as though their souls were exposed. The air was quiet, their steady breaths the only thing that could be heard among the tousling grass.

“No, it just—perhaps we should take this elsewhere.”

Zayn was emboldened, he felt rejuvenated, he felt new thrills coursing through his veins, something he had hoped wouldn’t slip away the second he pushed Liam back ever so slightly. The two seemed to be thinking the same thing as Liam nodded quickly before opening the car door behind Zayn ushering him in quickly. His eagerness would have been quite comical if Zayn wasn’t just as apt to get to somewhere more private, and preferably indoors.

*****

The door to Liam’s flat was pushed open with so much force that Zayn flinched at the idea that other residents could hear their arguably sordid endeavors. Pushing Zayn's slightly smaller figure back against the wall inside the flat, Liam’s connected their lips in a heated flux once again. The raven-haired man didn’t have time to fully process all that he was doing with the man nor did he care to. Liam must have heard his thoughts because he finally pulled back and made a move to speak.

“Look,” Liam breathed in between a kiss, “I know we have a lot to discuss. There’s a lot I have to tell you,” he started, Zayn was raking his hands underneath his shirt as he spoke. Feeling the definition caused his breath to shutter.

“And I promise we’ll do that. But right now…I have a bed.”

Zayn closed his eyes and smiled, “You have a bed,” he felt the man’s lips working his neck, Liam’s hand traveling down to pick up Zayn’s leg, hoisting it to his side.

“And I’d love to see you in it,” Liam finished

Zayn tried to keep his breaths even as the captain lifted him as if he hardly weighed a thing. He only had mere moments to take a look around the place in between heated kisses and Liam leading them to his bedroom. His place appeared to be a comfortable size, none of the lights had been switched on, but the small living space was illuminated by the brights of the city threatening to peak in. Liam carried him down a short hallway before Zayn was thrown onto a large and comfortable bed in a heap, he couldn’t help the laugh the escaped as he landed into a pile of pillows, and _God_ , it was a beautiful sight to behold the man who stood towering above him.

When Liam blanketed Zayn with his weight, he could feel just how eager the two of them were. Zayn had no way of knowing what Liam enjoyed, _sexually_ , or how fast he wanted this to go, but he was content with the feeling of Liam’s defined muscles as he snaked his hands up his shirt. With one more kiss, Liam got up, straddling Zayn as he discarded his shirt before laying himself back on top of Zayn, flipping the two of them over in one swift motion.

“Is this really happening?” Zayn asked. Breathless as he was, he was using everything in his power to hold on to every passing moment, Liam’s advances moved quickly, and Zayn had no desire of decelerating this miraculous moment.

“Do you want it to?”

“If only you knew how much, you wouldn’t have to ask.”

Liam grabbed ahold of Zayn’s hips with his magnificently defined arms, training his eyes on Zayn’s figure. He could still see the sincerity among the dark lust lingering in Liam’s eyes. Zayn discarded his own shirt before he connected their lips once more, keeping their foreheads touching as he pulled them apart.

“From the moment I first laid eyes on you, Zayn,” Liam admitted softly, landing a gentle kiss on Zayn’s gaping lips, “when I told you to take off that nose ring that looked so. Fucking. Sexy. On you, might I add?” Liam accentuating each word with another kiss. “My God you’re gorgeous, Zayn.”

Zayn’s emotions were in a whirlwind, he didn’t know how to feel at the captain’s profession. Whether he should burst into tears, or laughter, or simply give himself fully to the man below him. His beautiful, strong, breathtaking captain. Zayn’s hands wandered across Liam’s sculpted chest, taking the two metal tags in his hand and moving in closer to read them.

_A POS; 39870563; PAYNE; BM; RAF._

“Cut from the same cloth, Captain,” Zayn said smugly before Liam grabbed ahold of his own tags, using them to pull him in close. Surely, they would return to such meticulous details of their paralleled lives. Another time.

“I like when you call me that, hearing it from your mouth, you have no idea what it does to me.”

Zayn smirked, “Show me, _Captain_.”

Liam let out a soft moan, tightening his grip on Zayn’s hips as he bucked up, confined by the garments they still had on. Zayn was painfully aware of their mutual arousal, feeling himself hardening by the second. He chose to take advantage of their position, inching himself upwards against Liam’s still clothed member. The captain continued to moan as Zayn pressed his lips down Liam’s torso, offering marks to each one of Liam’s chiseled abs. Unbuttoning Liam’s jeans without looking was no easy feat, but once he slipped them down and off his legs, he was quick to continue the route down to his groin, offering small bites to the man’s hips.

“Zayn, you can slow down, it’s okay,” Liam offered, already looking decently flushed, “I want to show you— _need_ to show how you make me feel every day you walk into the house, giving me the looks you do.”

Zayn smiled, coming up to give Liam a mischievous look, “I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re talking about, _Captain_.”

If this would be Zayn’s only opportunity to have Liam like this, if everything changed in a matter of moments afterward, he was going to take advantage of every lingering second of intimacy he had with the man now. Liam practically growled before flipping them over once more, making a move to chuck Zayn’s own joggers off as he had just done.

“Do you have…you know,” Zayn started, he wrapped his legs around Liam’s waist, drawing him in closer before pressing another soft kiss to the plump lips above his own. Nothing but a strong lustful desire filled the air around them, Zayn truly could not get enough.

Liam let Zayn’s legs fall before he reached over to the drawer beside the bed, pulling out a small clear bottle and a silver condom wrapper.

“So you do this often?”

“Hardly ever,” Liam responded quickly, “you’re the only one I’ve thought about since the day we met. You've made my job rather impossible to do thank you very much.”

“You wouldn’t have lasted a day in my shoes, Payne.”

Liam sucked and licked at Zayn’s neck, eliciting unabashed moans from the man underneath him, before he made his way down Zayn’s body and began mouthing at his cock, boxers still concealing his hard-on.

“ _Liam,”_ Zayn moaned, the world around him spinning as felt the pleasure he’d been deprived of for years.

Liam lowered Zayn’s boxers, finally allowing his erect cock to spring free before moving up Zayn’s body. Liam’s volatile pace was driving Zayn mad, he clawed at Liam’s back causing the man to hiss but buck his hips against Zayn no less. He grabbed the bottle of lube beside Zayn’s head quickly, coating his fingers before using one to circle Zayn’s entrance. Liam kissed him passionately once more, an unspoken question on his lips.

“Liam, I’m ready, _do it_ ,” Zayn said, heedless of how desperate he sounded.

And with that, Liam pressed in, using two fingers to begin the excruciatingly slow, but overwhelmingly blissful process. He moved his fingers carefully, Liam’s name at the tip of Zayn’s tongue every he Liam pressed in again. The feeling was almost foreign to Zayn, having not been in this position in what felt like a lifetime, but just as Liam added a third finger and brushed that sensational spot inside of him ever so slightly, Zayn knew that this was exactly what he’d needed.

“Tell me what you want, Zayn,” Liam’s lips brushed up against his ear, causing Zayn to shiver and moan at the feeling of Liam’s fingers doing wonders.

“I want _you_. In me, now,” Zayn was a whimpering mess, to which he had no emotional capacity to correct, not when Liam was leaving Zayn feeling empty as he relinquished his own cock from the confines of his boxers.

Liam reached for the condom, ripping it open and wrapping himself in the latex, using some additional lube to aid his efforts. Liam grabbed the pillow above Zayn’s head, lifting Zayn with one arm and placing it beneath his hips in another. In about 12 hours, Zayn knew he’d be thinking about the care and consideration the man above him was providing, but right now, all he needs is _Liam, Liam, Liam_.

With both of his legs going to either side of him, Liam leaned over him guiding himself to Zayn’s entrance, pressing in slowly as Zayn grabbed ahold of Liam’s shoulders, his head falling back and his mouth wide open, overwhelmed by the feeling granted by the man above him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Liam cursed lowly, inching his way into Zayn, offering kisses as he did so. Liam clenched his jaw when he was fully immersed, Zayn biting his lower lip to keep the small sounds of pleasure from escaping too fast, or all at once.

“Keep going,” Zayn whispered, maintaining his grip as Liam grabs ahold of his leg, wrapping around his waist.

Liam began moving, picking up the pace as he went, letting groans and curses and “ _you feel amazing”_ fall from his lips as he continued to hammer into Zayn. Before things could escalate further, Zayn used all the strength he had left to flip them over. With Liam on his back, Zayn wished he could capture the look on Liam’s face for safekeeping. He flattened his hands on Liam’s chest before driving himself upwards and back down, causing Liam's face to contort in pure blissed-out ecstasy. Zayn didn’t do the work for long before Liam took over once again, bucking himself up from below as Zayn moaned loudly and twisted his hips, contributing to the pleasure possessing Liam’s features.

Zayn nearly collapsed onto Liam’s chest as his coordinated thrusts nearly became too much. Stars swimming in Zayn’s vision as Liam drilled into the right spot that had Zayn moaning loudly, pleasure rolling off him in waves.

“Fuck, _fuck,_ ‘m not gonna last much longer with you like this, Zayn,” Liam’s voice was raspy and strained and Zayn absolutely loved hearing his name roll off his tongue in this state as he met Liam’s thrusts.

Zayn was impossibly close, with Liam using the sounds escaping him as an indicator to get a hand around his unattended cock. Zayn was chasing his release as he let Liam fully take over his body, thrusting upwards and stroking him at a perfect pace.

“Liam,” Zayn managed to get out as Liam quickened his pace, hitting him in the right spot before he was spilling on Liam’s chest with a loud sob.

Liam moaned at the sight snapping his hips once, twice, three more times, before coming with Zayn’s name on his lips.

Zayn took a few breaths, feeling Liam's final pulses inside of him before he slowly lifted himself off and collapsed beside the man, going in for a lazy kiss that Liam reciprocated without pause. They gazed at each others’ blissed out features before Zayn closed his eyes, burying his face into the man’s neck.

For a few moments, the two of them laid still, their slowing breaths the only thing filling the room with any semblance of sound.

“That was better than I’d imagined,” Liam said, breaking the looming silence.

Zayn chuckled before placing his hand on Liam’s cheek, turning his head to face Zayn.

“So you’ve imagined this. _Us_.”

“You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“I never said that.”

The two of them got cleaned up quickly, Liam bringing out a cloth from the bathroom connected to his room before they returned to the safety beneath the sheets, Zayn settled on Liam’s chest, the warmth of Liam’s embrace was the only measure Zayn had to know that this moment was in fact real. They both knew there were things that needed to be discussed. Hell, Zayn had questions going back to the start of his placement at the station, the time when he first laid eyes on the man below him.

A real conversation was imminent, but right now, the two men basked in the calm this juncture provided. Liam placed soft kisses on Zayn’s forehead and time didn’t matter. Nothing, but the way Liam’s heartbeat lulled Zayn into the tempting release of slumber mattered at this point. Zayn planted a kiss on Liam’s chest before letting his eyes close.

“ _Fuck, you’re gonna ruin me_ ,” was the last thing Zayn heard before sleep finally prevailed.

*****

Zayn awoke to the sound of his phone buzzing from where he had tossed it on the floor just hours ago, or what felt like a mere few hours ago. The man was still dreadfully exhausted as he often was the morning after a shift. Upon noticing that something was keeping him pressed firmly to the bed, Zayn opened his eyes to a sun-lit room and looked over to the man sleeping peacefully beside him, his arm draped across Zayn’s midsection. Zayn felt his heart flutter as he took in the glorious sight. Small breaths escaped Liam’s lips and his grip on Zayn’s waist tightened, somehow sensing the movements in the bed.

Zayn smiled, he wanted nothing more than to stay where he lied, with a beautiful man, might he add, but the buzzing of his phone was persistent and bound to drive him up the wall if he chose to do nothing about it. Zayn wriggled his way from Liam’s hold before slipping into his boxers that were discarded on the floor. He moved around the bed until he found the source of the constant vibrations. Zayn turned his phone over and saw 15 unread messages and 3 missed calls from one, frankly very agitated, Louis Tomlinson:

**_From Lou: You are off shift tonight yea?_ **

**_From Lou: Isn’t someone supposed to call me if you burned to death in a fire?_ ** ****

**_From Lou: Z seriously where the FUCK are you???_ ** ****

**_From Lou: SHOULD I GO TO THE FIREHOUSE WHAT DO I DO CALL ME NOW_ ** ****

Read only a few of the many texts sent over the course of the night. Zayn felt bad for keeping his friend in the dark about his whereabouts, but before he could type out a response, his phone lit up with an incoming call. Zayn looked over to see Liam still deep in slumber before quietly exiting the room, taking a seat on Liam’s rather comfortable couch before pressing ‘Accept’.

“Lou, listen-”

“The things you put me though, Zayn Malik, if you had any fucking clue what you put me through all night. Where the _bloody hell_ are you?”

“Lou, I’m so sorry, mate. My car died after work and I was offered a ride home and—“

“That doesn’t explain where you could’ve ended up, seriously where are you?”

The man sounded adequately drained, the combination of studying late and worrying about his friend all night did not bode well for Louis’ patience.

“I’m—I stayed at a friend's,” Zayn said slowly. The hour was far too early to grant Louis the details of last night’s endeavors, especially given the reaction he would undoubtedly receive.

“What friend? I’m your only friend last I checked.”

“You’re funny,” Zayn deadpanned.

“Cut the shit, Zayn.”

Zayn sighed, he knew he would not be quickly absolved considering the hell he must have put his friend through all night. It’s not easy minding friends who meet in the inordinate circumstances that Zayn and Louis did, having each other’s backs was an essential doctrine of their time together, both professionally and personally. Considering Zayn chose to go into yet another life-threatening line of work after arriving home, he could empathize with his friend’s frustrations and constant disconcertment.

“Alright. Liam picked me up last night after my car went out, and uh, I haven’t exactly left his place yet.” Zayn pulled the phone away from his ear when he heard the loud gasp coming from the other end of the line. _Here we go_.

“You did it, didn’t you?! You fucked Captain Hunk! Zayn, are you telling me you actually got laid? Please, _please_ tell me you finally got the dicking down of your life! And oh _god_ , with your _captain_ , no less? Your fit, child-saving, firefighting, air force, fire captain?”

Zayn chuckled at the theatrics, choosing to ignore the implication that a massive, scandalous ethics violation was in the midst.

“I’m really sorry I had you worried. And I’ll be home once I figure out how to get my car back,” Zayn said before Louis had the chance to continue spiraling.

“Zayn, we’re not ending the conversation like this—“

“Liam’s still asleep, I’m hanging up now.”

“Zayn Malik, if you hang up this—”

And then Zayn was immersed in the silence of an unfamiliar living room. He took his time looking around. There was a small open-plan kitchen to the left of the front door, a counter with bar stools, and the living room adorned in modern light fixtures leading to a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the east end of Holland Park. Not bad for a twenty-something-year-old fire captain. Zayn noticed the framed pictures sitting above the mantel. Getting up to take a closer look, he saw that one of the frames contained an image of a younger Liam, possibly nineteen or twenty at the time, with two women who couldn’t be mistaken for his sisters. There was another picture of Liam standing with three other camo-clad men posing in front of an air landing strip. Their faces bright, Liam’s hair was freshly cropped. Zayn inspected the photo closely, trying to make out which base he was on.

“Al Udeid, 2014.”

Zayn jolted at the voice behind him, completely unaware of Liam’s sudden presence behind him. He turned and saw a sleep-ridden Liam, his hair tousled with nothing but a loose pair of shorts on his otherwise naked figure, before glancing back at the photo.

“Qatar?”

“Very good, Malik.”

Zayn tried not to shiver at the raspy voice commending his expertise. He felt Liam press his chest to his back, Zayn couldn’t stop himself from leaning into the warm body against his own the second their skin touched. Liam pressed a kiss to Zayn’s neck, which sent a spark up his spine. Liam wrapped his arms around Zayn’s midsection as he inspected the photo still in Zayn’s hands.

“Thought you had left,” Liam said, his voice muffled by Zayn’s shoulder. He felt his cheeks flush at the thought of Liam waking up to an empty bed, confused and wondering if he’d scared the candidate off after the night they had shared.

“Sorry, Louis kept calling, I never let him know where I was off to after shift. Got too wrapped up in…well, this.”

Liam laughed softly, taking the picture and placing it back on the mantle before walking Zayn back towards the bedroom, his arms not leaving their place around Zayn’s waist.

“Come back to bed, ’s too early.”

“Fuck, how am I gonna get to my car?” Zayn asked as they reentered the room.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get you there. We have a full two days, after all,” Zayn rolled his eyes at the brazen remark riddled with an insinuation of what their break from work could look like. Thank god for the two days on-two days off schedule of a firefighter.

Liam pulled him into his arms as they settled in the bed. Zayn basked in the scent of Liam’s sheets, smelling like clean linen and _Liam._ Zayn could get intoxicated on the smell alone. With one more kiss placed on Liam’s awaiting lips, the two men were whisked away, returning to sleep’s alluring gratification.

*****

The smell of coffee and toast filled Liam’s apartment at half-past eleven. They had slept for a few more hours before mutually agreeing to get their day started. That was before their steam-filled shower had ended in mutual blowjobs, but the details of that aren’t important. Zayn sat on the stool at the counter as he watched Liam cut up some berries and an avocado, the candidate slowly starting to recognize how Liam maintains his idyllic physique.

Zayn was practically itching for answers at this point. Had he concluded 24 hours prior that this is where he’d be sitting on the morning of his first day off, he would have laughed, or slapped some sense into himself. But here he was, in his captain’s kitchen, drinking coffee in a fire helmet-themed mug, feeling perfectly satiated by their recent sexual escapades.

“You’re staring,” Liam said, turning to face Zayn, leaning across the counter.

“Where do we go from here?” Zayn wasted no time addressing his prodding concerns. If he let them marinate any longer, he knew he wouldn’t leave here feeling as satisfied as he did entering this flat.

“We can cross the bridge when we get there.”

“I hate to say it, Liam, but that bridge is a mere 44 hours away.”

“Look, Zayn,” Liam sighed, it was clear he’d needed time to sort out his own thoughts, but Zayn couldn’t let them continue whatever this was without establishing some sort of criterion, if for anything then for his sanity’s sake, “I haven’t felt like this for anyone, or anything, in a really long time, I mean really felt like _this_. You've granted me something more than just the feeling I get from the cheap thrills of a call, you know? ”

Liam looked down taking Zayn’s hand across the counter, he tried giving Liam the sincerest look he could muster, urging the man to continue.

“I’m not one to perpetuate in-house relationships, I hope you know that.”

“Don’t worry, you’ve made that pretty clear already,” Zayn stifled a laugh as he reminisced on their previous misfortunate encounters at the station.

“But, shit Zayn, ever since I saw you, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I wanted you. Not just _you,_ but to be near you, to share myself with you, to just talk to you, to go into every call by your side.”

Zayn saw the pained look in Liam’s eyes and knew he’d once mirrored that himself. Feeling the desire with wanting and not knowing and the crippling suppression as he walked the fine line between what was considered too personal, _inappropriate_ even _._

“There’s a lot of red tape that comes with the job, as I’m sure you know,” Zayn nodded in response.

“And I understand if this is too much for you—“

“It’s not,” Zayn cut in quickly, not wanting the man opening up to his to have an ounce of doubt tied to his proclamation, “That feeling, the need to be close, I’ve wanted that ever since I saw you too. I want _you,_ Li.” It seemed as though both the men hunched over the small marble counter had their cards ready and sprawled out. Liam brought Zayn’s hand up to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss before holding Zayn’s gaze.

“Do you remember what I said to you, that night in the gear closet?” Liam asked.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, you know I was in pretty bad shape.”

Liam looked remorseful, quickly tempering his expression as he began to speak again, “You know I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am about how things ended up like that. I hope you understand it wasn’t my intention to catch you in such a vulnerable position.”

“Liam, I know. You don’t have to apologize. There's an infinite number of ways I would’ve gone about that differently. Almost every one has me keeping you from storming off that night.” Zayn knew his earnest look must’ve been registered because he could see the slight tinge of red to Liam’s ears as gave the omission.

“I told you that I see myself when I look at you, after all that I’ve witnessed, the way you carry yourself, the way you take to the job with such passion and a willingness to hold on to every single moment that you’re in action…but it’s also the reason there’s a part of me that aches when I see you.”

“Liam…” Zayn started. He knew what the man before him was alluding to. The choice to leave home for a job that requires you to sacrifice so much of yourself, Zayn understood the pain behind Liam’s words, the undying grief attached to the unknown consequences of the endeavors of your own volition. The pained looks given by each family member before you embark, the incessant fear that the boy they love will come back only a shell of who he once was. It’s an unrivaled torment, something Zayn had remembered each day he chose a life of anguish abroad rather than idle accomplishment at home. It's a trauma the two men inflict on themselves, Zayn knows it all too well. 

“That’s why you walked out, when I talked about Zain, you left. You couldn’t—” The look on Liam’s face was telling enough without Zayn needing to finish his remark.

“There hasn’t been a day I don't hold the guilt of loving what pained me the most. Hearing you that day at the pub, everything I chose to do, it just felt too real, too raw. My mother would always ask me how I could love something that keeps me away from those who love _me."_

And Zayn knew the feeling, the itch that was never scratched, the thirst that was never quenched, it left him craving more while leaving his family feeling as though they lost their boy, taken from them in the throes of a fight that wasn’t his own.

The two men stayed silent, contemplative of their standings. Zayn elicited a small, dejected laugh causing Liam to look up from where he had his eyes trained on their conjoined hands.

“It’ll never go away. It never ends. Will it, cap?”

Liam gave him an emphatic look, offering Zayn’s hand a squeeze along with it, “Not until it ends you.”

*****

The rest of their time off went like this: Liam arranged a towing truck to retrieve Zayn’s car at the station and bring it to a shop nearest his flat. The two spent some more time getting to know each other at a nearby cafe until the battery in his car was replaced. They shared stories about growing up as the only boy amongst multiple sisters, what their younger years in Yorkshire and the Midlands were like, and what lured them to a decision to enlist. Before the sun got any lower, they went on their separate ways, the affair made perpetually more difficult when they couldn’t break apart from the heated kisses they exchanged for more than five minutes.

The departure had Zayn feeling more disconsolate than he’d care to admit, but he knew he had a fiery roommate to return home to. Sparing Louis most of the graphic details was no easy task given the constant prodding for more information, but when Harry had finally arrived to whisk him off on a much-needed study break, Zayn finally had a place of solace to think about all that had happened in such a brief period of time. He chose to ignore the nagging in the back of his mind that told him whatever was going on between him and his captain could very well implode on itself upon anyone in the house discovering them. But for now, he felt content knowing that a certain Liam Payne had the potential to fill every crevice of his heart with one look and a simple smile.

Coming into work on an early overcast morning had Zayn feeling less than inspired, but that all changed the moment he caught the few soft smiles Liam was sneaking him from across the table as Deluca gave them the shift debrief. Before Zayn could disperse from the main living area and towards the garage, a loud, bellowing voice laced with mischief ceased his movements.

“Well, well, take a look at what we have here!” Samuels announced from his seat, his eyes fixed on Liam who had just stood from the table. The volume caused the majority of the crew to turn their heads to whom he was directing his attention.

“Cap finally got some action then or what?”

Zayn stiffened at the remark. He eyed Horan as the wide-eyed blonde started moved closer to the captain, eyes trained on the reddish-purple marks below Liam’s right ear. Normally, Zayn would pride himself on such a bold move to claim what he felt belonged to him, but right now he was trying to keep the flush crawling up his face from surfacing. _Already went and fucked this one up._

Liam offered a sarcastic smile to the men surrounding him before saying, “You’re fired, Samuels,” causing the others to burst into a fit of laughter. Thankfully, no one had noticed Zayn’s stiff presence as he gripped the doorframe, contemplating whether a brisk exit would help his cause.

“Oh come off it, Payne,” Horan started, “with the greatest respect, you practically handed that one to him.”

“Found yourself a nice bird then or what?” Samuels asked.

Liam looked up to meet Zayn’s eyes once more before responding in the most assertive voice he could convene, “The details of my love life are for me to know for you all…to bugger off.”

Before the crew could grill him any further, or for Gutierrez to get in what looked like a burning question about to escape, the dispatch alarm sounded. And just like that, the men in front of Zayn went from bantering friends to undaunted firefighters, clearing the room in a flash. Following Boynton into the engine, with his coat slung over his shoulder, Zayn felt a squeeze of his waist.

Turning to Liam who was readying himself to enter beside Horan, he offered the candidate a smug look before asking, “You ready, Probie?”

“Let’s do it, Cap.”

Liam left him with a wink and one of his signature smiles and Zayn knew that the man before him would be his ruin.


	7. Seven

Horan took a sharp right turn past the busy intersection, causing Zayn to grip the handle above his seat. Traffic was fairly heavy given the late lunch hour and the squad was recently dispatched to a structure fire down High Street. Given the details Liam was sharing with the crew on their way over, the men were readying themselves for a sizable blaze. Zayn listened carefully to their assignments before peering out the window to the bustling street below.

It had been approximately three and a half shifts since Zayn and Liam’s provocative affair had begun. The two men could hardly keep their hands off each other, making the task increasingly more difficult knowing they couldn’t be away from the crew or their duties for more than ten minutes at a time without raising suspicions. Often times, when the majority of the members on the shift were preoccupied with outdoor duties or deep into their slumber, Zayn let himself be lured into Liam’s office, the two exchanging nothing more than heated kisses and basking in each moment they could spend together.

There had only been one instance that Zayn would argue was a close call. Liam had sneaked his way through the station’s sleeping quarters before stirring Zayn awake with a gentle caress on his cheek. Bleary-eyed, yet alert, Zayn was lead to Liam’s office where their sultry pursuits commenced. Just as Zayn had gotten a hand down the front of Liam’s trousers, the alarm had sounded, notifying them of a late-night dispatch. With quick thinking and a pounding heart to maintain his sharp senses, Zayn slipped out fast enough to appease any suspicion of his previous whereabouts, making it appear as though he was leaving the restroom when the call came in. Their lesson learned the hard way that midnight endeavors were, in fact, not a wise idea.

Between the shifts, Zayn and Liam were back and forth between each other’s places, the honeymoon stage of their confidential affair in full swing. Liam took an immediate liking to Louis, whom he’d gotten to know between brief ventures from the Zayn’s bedroom to the kitchen.

Arriving at their most recent shift, the captain and candidate knew that keeping things well under wraps was the only way to sustain the furtiveness of their relationship, something they both agreeably had no problem with, only making for more exhilarating titillations in their cursory moments at the firehouse.

Niall swiftly pulled the engine up to the door of the restaurant, the only indicator of a life-threatening emergency being the smoke funneling through the glass doors. A small crowd was gathering across the street to watch the events unfold to which the metro police were establishing a barricade. The fire looked to be coming from the back portion of the establishment. Before the firefighters could enter the building, a visibly overwrought older gentlemen came barreling towards them, the apron around his waist denoting his role.

Zayn glanced over to his coworkers as he fastened his breathing apparatus and secured his helmet to see the perplexed looks on each of their faces. The candidate turned his attention back over to the man who stood in front of them, waving his arms frantically in hopes that anyone would decipher his pleas. And that’s when Zayn registered the language the man was speaking.

“Tumhara beta kahan hai?” He got out quickly, after recognizing the man was calling for his son. Zayn’s heart dropped, the despair quickly obscuring the man’s kind face.

“Barwaachi khana mai, jidar aag lagii ve hai,” the man informed, offering a look of gratitude to the fireman who spoke his native tongue.

The team looked to Zayn with widened eyes, visibly taken aback and displaying their own relieved looks at the candidate’s ability to comprehend the poor man, _the monolingual bastards._ “He says his son is a cook who’s trapped behind the fire in the kitchen. Everyone else is out, we’ll only need to sweep the rear,” Zayn explained, the men preparing to embark on their trek towards the building.

“Iss ka naam?” Zayn asked.

“Aasim. _Please,_ mera bacha,” the man was on the verge of tears.

Zayn knew that allowing his feelings to interfere right now was the last thing he could rightfully warrant. Right now, he had a job to do, a man in front of him counting on him to pull his son out alive, his _bacha_. Zayn gave the man a reassuring squeeze to his arm before turning to Liam, his eyes wide with an anguished ambition.

“The son’s name is Aasim, do you mind if I—“

“Get in there, Malik, you got this,” Liam replied, reading Zayn’s mind.

At Liam’s okay, Zayn stormed into the restaurant with Samuels on his tail. From what he could determine, the fire hadn’t entirely breached the walls of the kitchen and into the seating area, but as Zayn drew closer, he could see the extent of the damage already done.

“Cap, this looks like a class F fire, ’s not coming down without a fight,” Zayn stated into his radio, taking in the inauspicious grease fire raging at him, threatening to take him under with it.

_“Copy. Boynton, get the hose ready. I need you to give this thing all the pressure you got.”_

“Aasim! Can you hear me?” Zayn yelled out after Liam’s dispatch came through, “Fire brigade! Can you hear me?”

“Call out!” Samuels shouted from behind.

Zayn was quick to assess any and all possible routes through the kitchen, the large space almost fully engulfed. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears, paying no mind to how much oxygen from his tank he was using up. There was nothing that was going to stop Zayn from getting to this man as quickly as possible, not even the roar of the flames obstructing his path.

“Malik! Over here!” Samuels shouted, motioning Zayn to the back corner of the room, besides the stove.

Zayn trudged over, turning the corner before his eyes locked with a man’s unconscious figure, it was undeniably Aasim. Zayn dropped to his knees in a flash, scouring the man’s body for any spinal or neck injuries before hoisting him up over his soldiers without a second thought.

“He’s the only one in here, we gotta clear out before this thing spreads,” Zayn warned as Samuels lead them out.

Zayn had no time to think about the growing weight on his shoulders causing an ache in his knees as he fended through the smoke. He looked only to the light peeking through the restaurant’s front doors, a call to refuge from the darkness beginning to creep into every inch of his body. The candidate refused to think about the unresponsive man still unmoving in his arms, he couldn’t surmise the tears in the father’s eyes as he crept closer and closer to the doorway.

Zayn and Samuels rapidly breached the doors, nearly taking them off the hinges as Boynton and Horan ran past them, hoses in hand. The candidate paid no mind to the father repeatedly calling his son’s name like a prayer as he got the man to the awaiting ambulance.

“Get that board on the ground, now!” Zayn called to the medics, oblivious to the sudden onset of his own command.

Zayn lowered the man down to the board carefully, ignoring the prying looks of his crewmates. Quickly discarding his mask and helmet, Zayn lowered himself to the man’s face as he pressed two fingers into his neck.

_No pulse._

“He’s not breathing, I’m starting CPR,” the candidate said in a panic, “Roberts, get me the defibrillator.”

Zayn began compressions, applying as much pressure as he could to the man’s sternum, counting softly as he went.

“C’mon Aasim, you’re still with us,” he pleaded.

Zayn was determined to hinder his surroundings to the best of his ability as he continued to push, focusing on nothing but keeping this man, this _son,_ alive and breathing. He counted onwards, applying forceful compressions as Roberts powered on the machine beside him.

“He’s still here, he’s still here,” Zayn began to chant as Roberts motioned for him to halt his movements. The medic cut off the man’s shirt, sticking the pads to their allotted places.

“Malik, stand back,” Robert’s said, delivering the first shock. Zayn noticed Chief Deluca keeping the father at a reasonable distance to let the men work.

Zayn was back on the man’s chest immediately after the first shock was administered. This was not the way Aasim would see his end. This was not the way a father was going to see his son so savagely taken from his protection. _This was not the end_. Zayn continued the compressions, commanding Roberts to defibrillate for a second, and then a third time. The candidate wasn’t slowing down.

“This isn’t it,” Zayn said shaking his head as his movements began to falter. He didn’t notice Liam inching closer to him until he felt a firm grip on his shoulder.

“Malik.”

“He has time, this isn’t it.” Zayn wasn’t sure to whom he was imploring at this rate, but he knew he couldn’t look the tormented father in the eyes without giving his son a fighting chance.

“Malik, he’s gone,” Liam said, keeping his voice quiet but firm.

“No—“

“Zayn, _stop_.”

As the captain grabbed ahold of Zayn, pulling him off the lifeless body below, his surroundings went steadily back into focus. The candidate went still. Peering up, he saw Horan and the captain offering equally sympathetic looks underneath the shock that grazed their features. He looked back down at the man below him, his breath shuttering as he saw the man who frankly didn’t stand a chance. He was too far gone by the time he and Samuels could to him, but that was something Zayn wasn’t willing to accept yet.

Zayn stood slowly, and on shaking legs he turned to his captain, without uttering a word, he moved past Liam and approached the man still contained by Deluca. It took everything in Zayn’s power to keep himself from crumbling the moment he laid eyes on the older gentlemen. The man was still, with eyes wide, desperate and pleading.

“Main mazrat chahata hun,” Zayn said, feeling the weight of each word, as though he were uttering them to his own father, begging for forgiveness for the pain he had caused.

Zayn stared blankly as the man in front of him finally broke, keening over, mumbling incoherently as he grabbed ahold of Zayn’s arms. Zayn stabilized the man, his professional exterior threatening to crumble with the man. Maybe it was selfish for Zayn to cower at the way the instance threatened to split him in two. Maybe it’s human nature that the only image flashing before his eyes were his own family’s looks of misery and grief.

Zayn looked to nothing and no one while reentering the engine, his eyes fixed on the material of the seat in front of him. He paid no mind to the cautious looks Liam kept sending in the rearview mirror. He ignored the way his team offered facile words of consolation as he entered the gear closet, mindlessly discarding his suit before booking past the crew in the garage once again. Zayn exuded the same numbness he felt with every loss, every ‘ _What can you do, kid?’_ lamely offered by his lieutenant, every moment dedicated to moving on from the loss.

“Malik,” he heard Liam call behind him as he moved to push past the doors.

“Candidate, hold up.”

Zayn ignored the summons, opting to find the furthest place of solace offered in the confines of the building. He didn’t care about the suspicions that would inevitably arise every time the captain called out to him, visible apprehension causing confusion amongst the team, wondering why the often poised officer was being so emotive _now_.

Nothing but the cries of a father echoed in Zayn’s head, haunting him like a boundless trauma using nothing but sound to appeal to the senses, eating away at the remaining shards of lucidity Zayn had left. His first loss, his first real loss on the job, someone who wouldn’t go home tonight, who was left on the street, left as though he was someone else’s concern and not the world for damning so many undeserving souls.

“Zayn.”

He was pulled out of his trance by the man hovering over him. Liam looked just as gutted as Zayn felt. He slid down the wall seating himself beside Zayn, the two planted firmly against the far wall of the locker room, where the air was still and the room tranquil enough from the lull of distant white noise. Liam wrapped an arm around Zayn and that’s when he finally lost his bearings. Feeling the arm tightening around his shrinking figure, Zayn buried his face into Liam’s chest, the calming scent finally drawing out the first semblance of tears streaking Zayn’s face. He felt Liam’s lips against his head as he released quiet sobs and he was _crying,_ for the first time Zayn was wholly torn apart by his failure.

“You did everything you could. We all saw, there was nothing more you could’ve done, Zee.”

Liam’s words did little to comfort the man, but his presence had a calming effect, making the process at least slightly bearable. Zayn knew that in a matter of moments, their lives would have to move on, move forward, into a skewed sense of normalcy. The jobs go on, as do they. But for now, Zayn wallowed, allowing himself to sort through a million thoughts in the safety of arms belonging to a man he’s grown steadily fond of with each passing second.

After a few more breaths and the sound of voices drawing near, Zayn finally sat up, glancing over at the warm, brown, unfeigned eyes once more before standing. As he started back towards the common area, the candidate was stopped by Liam’s firm grip around his wrist. Pulling him in close, Liam dropped a small, reassuring kiss to Zayn’s lips, causing his heart to stir as it tended to do more frequently, and the two men were off. Zayn entering the living area first paying no mind to Horan’s steady gaze as he walked past.

*****

Zayn’s shift ended approximately six hours after the fated call. The captain and he began a routine; one of them parks their car one or two blocks up the street from the station whilst the other meets him there, a safe ten minutes or so after the crew disperses. Tonight was no different and it was Zayn’s turn to await Liam’s arrival. Zayn could hear multiple footsteps approaching, baffled and slightly wary at the sight of Horan walking beside the captain, arm playfully slung over Liam’s shoulder. Liam was visibly stiff, and Zayn braced himself at the thought of what could ensue.

“Horan, what are you up to?” Zayn asked casually, trying to temper his demeanor.

“Well, I could ask you two the same thing. I thought it odd Cap wasn’t parking in his usual spot anymore.”

Liam and Zayn exchanged fleeting glances before Horan spoke up once more.

“You two are coming with me,” He directed, leading them back towards the station.

“Niall, what—“

“C’mon I’m driving, there’s a new pub I want to check out,” Horan remarked before Liam could get a word in.

“Why not the usual spot? And why must we go in your car?” Zayn asked, letting himself be dragged towards the firefighter’s Jeep anyway.

“The usual spot is for usual conversations. Seems like this may be from that,” Horan retorted, “And, well, there’s this new band I’ve been wanting to check out.”

The nonchalant manner in which the man spoke did little to ease Zayn of his concerns. Rather than putting up a fight, he let himself be led back down the street with Liam to his right.

The ride over to the pub was [thankfully] quicker than Zayn had initially anticipated. He occupied the back seat of Niall’s car as the two men up front chatted aimlessly. While Zayn became increasingly that this outing would entail more than friendly banter, he knew that racking his brain would get him nowhere, fast.

The slightly more equable ambiance the alehouse offered far exceeded Zayn’s expectations of a place he assumed the rowdy man frequented, but Horan was all smiles and laughs as he greeted the barmen before offering Zayn and Liam a seat at a small, and a rather intimate table. The place was no more crowded than their usual spot was, but by the looks of it, more people were filing in as the minutes passed.

Before the three men settled into a rhythm of downing pints and blethering on aimlessly, the blonde looked to the two men across the table sporting a look that bordered the line of accusatory. Zayn felt tense beside Liam, the air around them going still.

“Okay, out with it, you too,” Niall spoke sharply.

Liam raised an eyebrow, meeting his friend’s steady gaze and making no motion to speak. Zayn felt uneasy, as though he was the bait centered between two predators. These two were stubborn as an ox if Zayn had learned anything in the time he’d known them.

“You don’t have me fooled, Payne,” Niall started, his tone but an ounce lighter, “and you,” he turned to Zayn, meeting his eye with a weighted expression, “you ought to be a bit quieter sneaking around at God knows what hour if you really want to keep ‘em off your trail.”

“Christ, Ni, how long have you known?”

Zayn’s eyes widened at Liam’s hasty concession. The last thing the candidate was expecting was for the man beside him to give them up at the bat of his friend’s eyes. Liam having sensed Zayn’s rigid composure offering a comforting squeeze of his thigh to indicate that he had nothing to fret over.

Niall belted out one of his signature laughs, “I must admit you’ve sold me rather short. How long have I known you, Liam? You expect me to believe the stick up your arse moved out on its own accord? Plus, Malik is precisely your type.”

Zayn felt his cheeks heat up in response to the crude remark. He was relatively relieved that Horan was not the type to dwell on the affairs of his coworkers, but a few inevitable questions still remained, leaving the candidate to feel a bit weary.

“Look,” he began, “Li, I love you. Zayn, it’s been great getting to know you better these past months. But you two seriously have to be careful, especially if I was able to figure it out so quick, who’s to say the others won’t catch on.”

Niall looked to Zayn and Liam as a father would his children, his blue eyes riddled with a serious conviction.

“If Deluca gets wind of it, there’s no telling what could happen. Getting a write up would be the least of your concerns.”

“You think we don’t know that?” Liam challenged. “Don’t act like I haven’t taken Z into consideration this entire time.”

“We’re being careful,” Zayn chimed in, being it was only right that he has a say as well, minding the two speaking on his behalf as if his presence was hardly significant. “I promise you, the last thing I’d want is to put Liam’s career in jeopardy.”

“What happens when your feelings get in the way of your obligations, the ability to do your _jobs_?” Niall prodded. Zayn knew that this was all coming from a place of genuine concern on Niall’s part.

“They won’t. Zayn and I are perfectly capable of keeping our personal and professional lives separate. C’mon, Ni, I know you know me better than that.”

“Yeah,” Niall said cautiously, “Until you can’t anymore.”

Zayn chuckled despite himself. He figured the man would have a bit more faith in him after seeing all he’d done to demonstrate his commitment to the job he was well enamored with.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zayn asked, maintaining a leveled intonation.

“I just don’t want to see it all go to shite is all, or take a turn for the worst. But you have my word, this isn’t my story to tell,” Niall relented, easing the little anxiety Zayn had left on the matter.

Liam gave the blonde a look of gratitude, taking Zayn’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers together, a prideful smirk settled onto his lips. Zayn would be lying if he said his heart didn’t flutter at the motion, feeling every twinge of elation as the first day he laid eyes on the man sitting next to him.

“So, who initiated what? And don’t spare any detail on my account.”

Liam rolled his eyes, and their night to wind down in the alehouse commenced. Zayn loosely outlined the timeline of their short-lived affair, going as far back as the kiss in the gear closet, earning Liam a kick in the shin from one evidently very astounded Irishman. With more pints, good music, and a diligent amount of repartee, the three men seemed to find their groove. It was a nice feeling to revel, Zayn having a place, a niche, not only with the two men around him, but in a job of his own inclination.

It’s a funny thing really, to be liberated in the confines of a career, to feel like there’s no impetus without it. He looked to the man on his left, hand still firmly planted in his own, all crinkled smiles, nodding his head along to the tune coming from the back of the pub, and Zayn knew this is something he’d happily settle with, if this was the plan written beforehand by some transcendental force, he’d be perfectly content.

Niall and Liam were blathering on about their plans to return home for a visit on the next holiday they were granted when Zayn noticed just how crowded the place had gotten over the hour. With no seats available, people were standing in hoards around the bar signaling to the bunch that perhaps it was time they make an agile escape. Weaving through the crowd was no easy task, especially when Zayn felt elbows prodding into every side of him. Before he could stop himself, Zayn was inadvertently plunging forward into a man of similar build and stature. Issuing out a hasty apology did nothing to deter the affronted look on the man standing before him.

“Oi! Sod off, Paki,” the man slurred venomously. And _okay,_ that supposedly just happened.

It wasn’t as though Zayn was impervious to racially motivated comments, it was still England for christ’s sake, but being on the blunt end of bigotry was a different kind of shock to his system, one he didn’t encounter all too often.

Liam turned quickly, the comment not falling on deaf ears. There was a fire in Liam’s eyes he hadn’t seen before, not on calls or even in a heated dispute with Samuels or Roberts. 

“Would you care to repeat that?” Liam cautioned, his eyes narrowing as he sized up the man.

“I said, the fuckin’ Paki’s gone and got in m'way, mate. What’s it to you?”

The moment came so quickly, Zayn could’ve argued it hadn’t even happened. One minute they’re inching towards the door, the next, the man is on the floor in a heap, Liam towering above him with his fists clenched and dear lord, Liam just hit the man, _Zayn’s_ Liam, Zayn’s even-tempered Liam with knuckles now an angry red hue, shouting obscenities at the man below him as Niall gets a hold underneath his arms and pulling him off in one swift move upwards.

Before the entire pub could get a look in their direction, Zayn shuffled quickly behind the two men, hearing Niall urge the perturbed captain to “ _leave it alone, Payne_ ”. When they made it past the doors, time slowed once again, able to take an alleviating inhale before Zayn turned his attention to the two men now sat against a fence.

“Right, can someone please tell me what the _fuck_ that was all about?” Zayn asked, eagerly trying to muster his own thoughts before fully processing the scene he’d just witnessed.

Liam was visibly piqued, his chest heaving with a tinge of pink heating his neck. He kept his eyes trained to the floor, refusing to meet Zayn’s awaiting gaze.

“I’ll tell you what that was about, your boy here was tryin' to play the knight in shining fucking armor like a proper idiot, could've gotten us all arrested,” Niall was visibly shaken, but something told Zayn this wasn’t the first time he’d witnessed Liam in this manic state of his.

“He had it coming,” Liam said breathlessly, “the no-good twat—“

“ _Liam”,_ Zayn cut in, “Liam, could you look at me?” He needed to rest assured that the perplexing man who sat huddled over in front of him was on equal footing before imposing his own conviction.

Zayn looked into Liam’s eyes and saw something strained hidden under the incessant anger, or perhaps it was hurt, he couldn’t be sure.

“It’s not worth it. It’s not something to put up a fight for. See me, I’m good, yeah?” Zayn offered, mustering a smile and making a feeble attempt to lighten the air between them.

Liam shook his head, “It’s not— it’s not just about what he said, Zayn. Granted, the man’s a right tosser.”

Zayn smiled sadly, taking a seat next to Liam who was cradling his bruised hand. Niall had slipped away sometime in the midst of their sequestered exchange. Zayn nudged Liam’s side softly, prompting him to continue.

“It’s shite I’m fed up with, it’s people like him thinking they can go about running their mouths. Like words have no meaning anymore. The number of men I’ve been forced to work with, acting like the world should fall at their feet.”

Zayn gave him a sympathetic look, knowing all too well how helplessness transforms into aggression in the least expected moments. Zayn grabbed Liam’s chin, turning it to face his own before planting a chaste kiss to the man’s downturned lips. Liam returned the kiss hastily, easing Zayn’s mind with the way he opened his mouth ever so slightly.

Zayn chuckled as they parted, “You know, you won’t like vanish into thin air if you stopped playin’ hero for a day.”

Liam scoffed, “Pot meet kettle, Malik.”

*****

“It was men you were stationed with, right?” Zayn questioned.

“Hm?”

“Who talked like that, you know, where the world was at their feet.”

Zayn was nestled into Liam’s chest, a place that felt an awful lot like home as a matter of late. They retreated to Zayn’s bedroom shortly after returning home. Louis had offered Liam a bag of frozen peas to ail his injured hand, sporting an incredulous look after hearing what took place at the pub earlier. _“You? The kind, sweet teddy bear Captain Liam Payne?”_ Louis had remarked, holding the peas to Liam’s knuckles.

Liam sighed, in the faint light peering through his bedroom’s window, Zayn could see Liam staring at the ceiling.

“It’s a silly thing, innit? The idea that you could die for these men at any moment, _your brothers_ , without necessarily dying for the causes they believe in.”

Liam looked somber giving the explanation, and Zayn knew he wouldn’t impel further, perfectly satisfied with what Liam was willing to give. Liam held his own loyalty in high regard, Zayn noticed it at every call, in every command Liam gave, his men were always on the forefront of his mind.

“What do you think Niall meant when he said this could all take a turn for the worst?” Zayn asked, lifting himself up slightly to get level with Liam.

“I think he’s afraid my judgment will get clouded, ordering you into burning buildings and all.”

“I’ll have you know, Payne, I rather like running into burning buildings,” Zayn quipped.

“Starting to think you’re a bit of a mad man.”

“ _Starting?_ ”

Zayn didn’t reach the brink of sleep that night without a bit of a mental joust to conclude his laborious day. The sounds of desolate cries, the cracks of knuckles, the roar of relentless flames echoed in his mind. Ironic one could process so much next to someone sleeping so soundly. With thoughts so vigorous compressing him into the mattress, it was a nearly impossible notion to shake. Being awake in a world gone quiet was the only way Zayn could grapple with his own state of being, allowing himself to drown in sorrow or impending doom, he wasn’t quite sure which one it was yet. And if Zayn shook with stifled sobs in the safety of Liam’s arms that night, well, _no one had to know_.


	8. Eight

“Forgive me if this is presumptuous, but how do your folks feel about all of this?”

Horan and Zayn were walking into the station, duffle bags slung across each of their shoulders. This was the first morning Zayn had driven alone to his in a while, Liam having to tend to “more bureaucratic matters” at London Fire Brigade’s headquarters, as he put it. Zayn was happy to see his Irish man bounding towards him as he exited his car.

“Feel about what, me and Liam?” Zayn asked.

Niall tilted his head from side to side, the question on his mind stirring a bit of unease in him, “No, you and _men_. I know that culturally—“

“My father broke through a lot of those walls when he married my mum,” Zayn interjected, “they’ve known I liked guys for as long as I can remember, never seemed to have a problem with it from what I can tell.”

“That’s refreshing,” Horan replied.

“Yeah well, my extended family is more on a need-to-know basis,” Zayn added.

Niall furrowed his brow in bewilderment, “Need-to-know basis?”

Zayn chuckled, “Well, I suppose they’d be a bit miffed if I didn’t tell ‘em before they showed up to a walima with two grooms on the couch.”

“Ah, so marriage is on the cards for the Probie, is that it?” Horan jabbed playfully, raising his eyebrows.

Zayn rolled his eyes, choosing not to dignify his crewmate with an answer. They made their way into the station, greeting people as they went.

“Ready for this?” Samuels asked Horan as they approached the locker room. The playful glint in his eyes left Zayn wondering what exactly “this” was.

Horan and Samuels turned to Zayn, giving him an expectant look.

“Am I supposed to know what’s going on right now?” Zayn asked, baffled by the silent conversation being held in front of him.

“Captain didn’t tell you what today was? Why does that not surprise me?” Samuels replied.

“Alright listen, Probie, we do something like this every year, and the idea is to never let Payne know who the culprit is, got it?” Horan explained slowly.

Zayn looked between the two men with squinted eyes, whatever they had planned, he wasn’t sure his own complicity would warrant a favorable outcome. “You know what,” Zayn started, raising his hands in defense, “I don’t even wanna know.”

Pressing in his locker combination, he heard Liam enter the station, greeting people in passing loudly before he found the candidate in the locker room, sending a soft smile in his direction before starting towards his own locker. Zayn hardly paid mind to Samuels and Horan bustling about behind him until a loud popping sound filled the room, startling the candidate in the process.

“Jesus, what the _fuck!”_ The captain yelled in surprise.

Zayn wasn’t sure if it was the abrupt obscenity or the volume in which Liam spoke, but either way, it got him striding over to find the cause of the commotion. He rounded the locker quickly to see Liam covered in _confetti?_ Liam’s befuddled look mirrored his own before he heard two men burst out in a fit of laughter.

“Payno!” Horan yelled, coming up behind Zayn.

“How come you didn’t tell Probie here it was your birthday, you scared of getting older or summat?” Samuels asked. And if Zayn’s mouth wasn’t gaping already, it certainly was now.

Liam shook the stunned look off his face before crossing his arms in defiance, “Which one of you booby-trapped my locker?”

“Who’s to say it was either of us, Cap? Your birthday is a matter of public record,” Samuels responded in faux innocence.

The two snickering men gave Liam their well wishes, showering him in exaggerated praise before the captain shooed them away. Zayn and Liam were left in a now-empty locker room when the candidate looked to Liam expectantly.

“What?” Liam was smirking inching closer to Zayn with his arms outstretched.

Zayn took a step back, “So that’s how I was left to find out it’s your birthday today, _Captain_?”

Zayn feigned a hurt impression, before turning back towards his locker. He smiled when he felt warm, strong arms wrap around him, stopping his pursuit.

“I’m sorry, love. Hardly thought it myself,” Liam whispered into Zayn’s ear, sending shockwaves down his spine.

Zayn turned and leveled Liam’s gaze before stepping in closer, his lips barely brushing with Liam’s.

“Well, perhaps if you’d told me, the start to your day could’ve gone a lot different.”

Liam looked visibly conflicted, his eyes falling to Zayn’s lips as he grabbed his waist, bringing the two impossibly closer.

“Must you make such insinuations when we still have an entire shift to get through?” Liam groaned, his lips moving to plant kisses below Zayn’s ear.

So what if the two were caught, screw ‘em all. Zayn craved nothing but the elixir that was Liam’s body pressed against his own, until the two became one whole again. Zayn placed his hand’s on Liam’s cheeks, bringing the man’s lips to meet his own, he was all but captivated by the heated delirium it all caused.

As they pulled apart, Liam grabbed Zayn’s hand dragging him to the captain’s office before anyone could see. Thankfully the majority of the team used the early portion of the shift to fulfill outdoor obligations before they were summoned for the chief’s morning briefing. Liam barged through the office door, before turning around, slamming Zayn against it. Zayn smirked at the eagerness before he got his hands back on whatever part of Liam’s body he could grab.

Perhaps this isn’t exactly how Zayn expected a career back home would end up, a job where the exhilaration never subsided, both on calls and off. Not that he was complaining. Zayn continued to indulge himself in the taste of Liam’s lips before he gathered his bearings, placing his hands firmly on the captain’s chest to separate them.

“Hey,” Zayn started breathlessly, “happy birthday, Li.”

Liam smiled, wrapping his arms around Zayn in a familiar embrace, one that Zayn knew was only meant for him.

“I’m happy it’s with you.”

Zayn buried his face into the crook of Liam’s neck, aiming to stave off the imminent end of the intimate moment. He breathed Liam in, trying to ensure every second of their time was in fact real, and not a conjured notion in a disassociated state he hadn’t yet ceased out of.

Perhaps this was Zayn’s issue, submerging himself in every passion that arose. The desire to revel in each glorifying sensation almost debilitating his potential to do so, to _live_ in a moment worth living, to feel things without actually warranting them to stay. It would explain the rush he strove for in the very idea of leaving the country full of doubt and uncertainty. It would explain the constant fear he had losing the way his heart stirred every time this man, this _Liam_ , glanced in his direction. But perhaps this was everything he needed to settle into a tranquil abyss, where nothing was uncertain and everything he craved was laid in front of him.

Zayn kissed Liam back fervently before he slowly lowered his hand past the confines of Liam’s trousers. Squeezing Liam’s rapidly growing cock, he let out a breath sounding between a whimper and a moan. Zayn moved his hand carefully, keeping their lips attached as he went, choosing to provide any shred of pleasure he could in their limited time together, before the world unavoidably caught up to them.

“Zee,” Liam moaned as Zayn continued his agonizingly slow strokes downwards, “don’t start something you can’t finish, babe.”

Zayn smirked against his lips, “Who says I’m not here to finish?”

A sudden two-finger knock halted his movements, Liam groaning loudly as he rested his head back against the wall. They knew without guessing that it was Horan alerting them to the briefing about ready to begin. Zayn chuckled before removing his hand, planting gentle kisses on an adorably pouting birthday boy.

“To be continued,” Zayn whispered seductively before moving for the door.

“You’re fired, Malik.” And Zayn smirked again.

*****

“Chocolate or vanilla?” Zayn asked, coming behind Liam in the produce section.

“What are you planning, Candidate?” Liam turned around, surveying Zayn’s face skeptically.

The squad was on their weekly grocery run, everyone dispersed into their designated aisles to complete the tasks in a sufficient manner.

“Figured I, _we, the house,_ should do something nice if we have to spend the night of your birthday on shift. Plus, we’re finally the same age, a celebration is certainly in order.”

Liam furrowed his brows in confusion, “I thought you didn’t look up my birthday?”

“Thought it was safe to assume the giant ‘1993’ on your tricep wasn’t the year your dog died.”

Liam chuckled, shaking his head before sending the candidate off with a definitive ' _chocolate, always chocolate'_.

Although Zayn’s mind was a constant cycle of reeling a million and one possibilities for every decision he made, he never thought of what he and Liam were to each other beyond the constraints of firehouse protocol. But seeing the way Liam responded to his every word, touch, or motion in his direction, he was fairly confident in prolonging their, _well_ , a bout of zealousness into something more. And perhaps tonight would be as appropriate a time as ever to make that distinction.

Feeling a rush at the thought, the candidate stalked through the aisles, grabbing everything on the house’s grocery list as he went. He was approaching Samuels when he heard the dispatch come in through his radio, the two men pausing to listen in.

“ _Engine 33, Ambulance 53, Structure Fire, Denbeigh and Westbourne.”_

“Never a dull moment in the LFB,” Samuels sighed, placing his basket on the ground and bounding for the exit with Zayn hot on his heels.

There had only been a handful of calls during Zayn’s limited time at the station where they were pulled away from the pressing matters that shopping for a house of eight entailed. He’d quickly accepted the fact that they had to be ready to go at the drop of a hat, a warm meal simply having to wait. Zayn hopped into the back of the engine, letting the charge of an uncertain aftermath replenish his body as it so often did.

They got to the scene quickly, Chief Deluca awaiting their arrival as they all got out of the vehicle and geared up. The building with flames prying through the windows looked to be a cross between a large house and recreation center occupying the corner of a wide residential street. Zayn zipped up his jacket as he surveyed the scene and things were in motion quickly.

A woman barreled towards them, looking as fearful as could be expected. She ran up to Liam, tugging on his arm as she pulled him closer to the building.

“The children! They were playing hide and seek, all of the sudden I smelled smoke. Get the children, please sir!”

“How many children are in your care?” Liam asked as he looked for the possible routes of entry. Zayn listened intently, his heart rate picking up at the mention of kids being trapped inside.

“There’s six right now! Please hurry, some could already be outside in the back.”

And that’s when it registered where they had arrived at. This wasn’t just a house, this was a cottage home. There could be any number of children living here at a given time. Zayn felt his heart jump to his throat, he couldn’t fathom the idea that some may not make it out. He heard Liam begin hurling orders to the squad and Zayn could feel the tension increase with every second he wasn’t in the house.

“Boynton you’re with me, Malik I need you one the hose, we need to get this fire contained as fast as possible,” Liam ordered.

“Sir, with all due respect, I’d like to go in,” Zayn started, trying to maintain as calm of composure as he could.

“Candidate, I need you on hose. That’s your job right now. Do you understand me?”

Liam looked at him cautiously, their eyes equally as challenging, equally as revealing to their present motivations to handle the situation.

“Yes, Captain.”

Liam gave him one more silent look before storming towards the building with Boynton to his side and the others not far behind. Zayn attached the hose to the allotted compartments swiftly, propping up the contraption and aiming towards the window with the most prominent flames.

“Let’s go, Malik!” He heard the chief yell as he unleashed the pressure.

Zayn was itching in his stagnant state, his hands shaking with the deprivation the captain issued him. This is not what Zayn had sought out when he left the engine just moments ago. He didn’t spend years tending to injuries in conditions some of these men couldn’t fathom to stand idly by as lives hung in the balance, a matter of minutes determining the fate of so many. The chain of events could be inauspiciously deterred with a trained medic-turned-firefighter placed on a spouting hose.

The flames began to dissipate where Zayn directed the hose line before shifting it over to the next window. With every glint of defiance lighting up his bones, the rational part of him understood his position in this operation. Zayn was a man of order, of rules, of a state of confinement, his undying need for the gratification of a save would simply have to mitigate itself. He continued to move on to each sector of the house at the chief’s command, staying put as his crewmates began retreating from the house, many of the children thankfully appearing shaken, yet unharmed. Zayn’s rigid stature slackened as he saw the captain come out, a young girl clutched to his shoulders.

“Area’s clear!” Zayn heard Horan yell before a tormented cry redirected his attention.

The woman was scurrying around the men aimlessly, “Ben! Where’s Ben? He’s not here!” Zayn’s heart rate arose once again.

“There’s no one else inside. We swept each room,” Samuels explained.

“Could he be in the back, Miss?” Chief Deluca offered in a steady tone.

“He could still be inside,” Zayn imposed before he could stop himself, “he could still be in there.”

His voice faded as he made a move towards the house before anyone could steer him to a halt or snap him out of his entranced state. He knew he was going against every single directive mandated at the academy, he knew that he was effectively ending his career before it truly took off, but the only thing on his mind as he fastened his mask and entered the exact doors his squad just came out of was _get him out. Alive._

“Malik! What's he doing, the fuckin’ freelancer,” He heard Boynton shout as he pushed forward into the house.

“Candidate get back here, now!” Liam yelled.

But it was too late, Zayn was already submerged in the smoke and ash, the flames still encompassing a good portion of the rooms he stormed past. He moved up the stairs swiftly, taking two at a time, hearing Horan come in behind him yelling far fewer obscenities than Zayn knew he deserved.

“Fire brigade, can you hear me?” Zayn shouted, scouring each room before moving to the next.

The house was appropriately large in size given the number of people apparently living here. Zayn listened carefully, searching for any indication that a living, breathing small human was still in the house.

“Malik, we need to clear out,” Horan cautioned but Zayn heard nothing, nothing but the breathing of a boy he’d probably concocted in the mere seconds he had to think about his plan of execution.

Zayn stilled in the room he now stood in, the flames just barely preying at the door frame, threatening an intrusion. And that’s when Zayn saw him, the sliver of skin peaking carefully behind a clothing chest situated on the far wall. The candidate approached slowly, getting on his knees before inching closer to the boy.

“Malik, we need to get moving, _now!”_ Horan shouted from the hallway before he said something into his radio that Zayn couldn’t hear.

Zayn took in the boy's figure carefully, his eyes filled with terror as he kept his legs pressed to his chest. He could no longer hear the flames that roared on, the sounds of Horan’s radio crackling, or the air leave his lungs. He could only concentrate on this boy’s silent, painful trepidation. The way he shook, the way his toes were curled in, or how he looked so unbearably defenseless, his image a manifestation of every child ever placed in Zayn's care, where the man could offer no more than cheap stitch work or a dirtied bandage.

“Hi Ben,” he spoke softly, “do you know who I am?”

The boy shook his head silently, his eyes were sagging, the smoke becoming all too consuming.

“I’m a firefighter and I’m here to get you out, is that okay?”

The boy remained still, unresponsive, glued to his mark on the floor.

“You know, I bet you won that game of hide and seek. This is a really good spot,” Zayn offered, “But, the game is over, and we have to go now, so that you can play more games later, okay? You can’t play if you’re hurt, I don’t want to see you get hurt, Ben. So would it be okay if I got you out of here?”

 _“Malik, you have two minutes to get out of there or you’re coming down with this thing”,_ Liam warned through the radio.

Zayn couldn’t think of the hell he’d unleashed, rather he focussed on the way the boy gave one final shrug and relented, allowing himself to be carried in Zayn’s arms. _That_ was all that mattered.

“Let’s go!” He called to Horan as he made his way back down the stairs with the boy steady in his hold and through the front door.

The boy was tucked into Zayn’s chest, keeping his face pressed to his jacket as he strode towards the ambulance, the woman exclaiming in relief at the sight of them.

“Ben dear, thank the heavens!”

Zayn lowered him to the stretcher before explaining to Gutierrez his condition.

“He’s losing consciousness, took in a lot of smoke. Get him some oxygen, intubate if you have to,” He instructed just as Roberts approached with a mask.

Zayn looked down to the boy, smiling sadly as he took off his helmet and breathing apparatus.

“Hey,” he whispered and the boy looked over to him, “you’re a rockstar.” He stated with a wink, earning him a tired smile in return.

But all pleasures were inevitably short-lived on this job as he turned back around, facing his team. Zayn wasn’t sure which face he should look at, each of their expressions mirroring the same shock and aggravation. His eyes met Liam’s and he stiffened. The man looked terrified, hurt, angry, _betrayed._ Zayn almost couldn’t bear it, looking away quickly before he spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he said to no one in particular, “for going against command. But I’m not sorry for doing what none of you did.”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?” Liam cut in, stepping closer to Zayn. His tone was stern and dripping with the anger he undoubtedly felt.

“Capt-”

“Do you have _any_ idea the amount of damage you could’ve done, could’ve caused this brigade?”

Zayn looked down in silence, each word that flew past Liam’s lips prodding a different part of his body, the fire in Liam’s eyes could burn a hole through his skull. Time had finally caught up to him, the shame had finally settled along with the ash.

“Not only did you go against my direct orders, but you put every single person here at risk.”

“It was a good save, Captain. I had to go back in,” Zayn retorted, knowingly digging himself deeper into the pit he stood in.

“There’s a chain of command here, Malik. Just like there is at every single call we go on. And you’ve demonstrated your inability to follow it here today.”

The captain’s pointed look had Zayn squirming. It was surely expected after coming out of the house in one piece, but it hadn’t hurt any less.

“Cap, don’t you think you’re goin’ down a bit hard on him? The house was vented, and it was a good save,” Horan reasoned, sounding as defeated as Zayn felt.

“I expect all of my men to follow simple commands,” Liam chided, his tone not letting up.

Zayn clenched his jaw before glancing up at the captain once more. His heart broke, the pained look scarcely concealed on Liam’s face had Zayn’s chest aching with each second they stood in silence.

“I apologize, Captain. I take full responsibility for the repercussions of my actions.” His voice was cold and robotic, the cadence doing little to mask his sorrow.

“Let’s pack it up and get going,” Liam ordered without sparing Zayn a second glance.

And Zayn had an unsettling feeling that this was only the beginning. As they wrapped up their duties and reloaded the engine, the candidate braced himself for the verbal beating he’d get the moment Liam and he were in isolation. This had only been _Captain Payne_ talking, he wasn’t sure if he could handle the other.

The ride back to the station was painfully silent, Zayn issuing Horan yet another apology as they pulled into the station.

“Zayn,” Horan said as the other’s got out, “it was a good save.”

Zayn made his best attempt to pose a smile in gratitude before getting out of the engine, disposing of his gear slowly, preparing himself for the inevitable.

*****

“You went against my better judgment—

“Your judgment was skewed, Liam. You know it, everyone knows it. You could’ve cost the kid his life if it hadn’t been for me going back in there.”

They’d been back from the call for a solid thirty minutes before Liam found an opening to drag Zayn back into his quarters. The candidate knew it was only a matter of time until their increasing volume alerted the others of some less than fortunate revelations.

“No one’s arguing the facts, Zayn. But you acted in direct defiance of my orders and _I_ would've sent someone back in for a secondary search, that was not your call to make.”

Liam was still riding the high of his own anguish, the distressed look apparent on his face was not going to subside anytime soon by the sound of it. Zayn was feeling more hopeless as the minutes passed, the guilt of ruining what could’ve been a lovely shift beginning to eat away at him.

“What do you want me to say? I’m sorry, Li. I couldn’t just let the boy burn to death."

“How do you expect me to do my job if you can’t follow orders, _Malik?”_

Zayn didn’t anticipate his name having so much venom behind it, but it was clear at this rate that the man before him was more than just a little hurt.

“Why do you have such little regard for the dangers of this job?” He continued, sounding defeated.

“Liam, I’m just trying-“

“Enough with the heroics, before you get yourself or all of us killed.”

And Zayn could recognize the fear that tortured the man he adored to remarkable degrees. Liam was scared, he was _terrified._ It was a feeling Zayn couldn’t equate, seeing Liam genuinely terrified for Zayn’s life, his livelihood, his sanity on a job that threatened it at every waking moment. And Zayn understood. He understood the way Liam braced for the moment he cracked, or both of them did. Because something was bound to demolish what was left of them. It was a conspicuous mentality Zayn had seen more often than he’d care to admit. The persistent fear that comes with waiting for an end, any end. Bolstering for that final rounding into a corner of inescapable doom. Liam was terrified of the breaking point, he was terrified that Zayn _was_ his breaking point.

But the man was still seething, his infuriation still overwhelmingly prominent. It filled the small room, threatening to suffocate them both. 

“I’m not sure you fully appreciate what the stakes are here,” Liam continued, “I’ve got _everything_ riding on this, on us working together here like this, my life included.”

“And you think I _don’t_?”

Zayn was nearing the edge, on the verge of snapping. And that’s when Liam said it, that’s when Liam finally voiced the one thing that would irrevocably shatter Zayn.

“Fucking you doesn’t give you the right to question my authority in this house.”

Zayn froze, depleted before a fuming man. The boiling point that demolished the bridge on the horizon, that’s what this was. Zayn swallowed the knot rising in his throat, threatening to burst. Zayn felt lost in his own heartbeat as he stared at Liam in horror. Perhaps Liam’s biggest fear was losing his ability to do his job properly with Zayn prodding his every thought, but this was Zayn’s greatest fear, being dismissed in a relishing of onerous anger.

“You think that lowly of me…” Zayn trailed off in a pinched voice.

The hurt in his voice brought Liam back to earth, sadness flashing in deep, brown eyes. Eyes Zayn reveled in looking at, eyes that could cause him the most torment.

“Zayn, I—”

“No, no— I’ve—you’ve said plenty.” Zayn knew there was more to be said. He knew deep down Liam hadn’t meant it, couldn’t possibly believe his own sentiments, which did little to keep Zayn from the feeling the sting of the words no less.

“I didn’t mean—”

“My apologies again, Captain. It won’t happen again.” Zayn said, unable to meet Liam’s gaze as he shouldered past him and out of the office.

Thankfully, the only one who paid any mind to their whereabouts was a currently confused-looking Horan who mouthed a silent ‘you okay?’ across the common room. Zayn shrugged, heading for the back corner of the locker room that had become his haven as of late. He closed his eyes and inhaled, focussed on anything but the sick feeling beginning to manifest itself. Liam would not be Zayn’s end, nor his beginning, nor the cause of his self-reproach, but things can rise and fall rather quickly, and Zayn could not even begin to orient himself to think about which was the right direction.

*****

He managed to hold it together for the remaining 25 hours of shift, the absolute longest of his life. The torment of being so close to the person capable of tearing him apart, Zayn wouldn’t wish it on his greatest enemy, nor would he wish it on himself, or Liam. He had avoided the captain’s direct attention the entire time, something Zayn would otherwise applaud himself for. The other two calls they were dispatched to requiring less effort on Zayn’s part, a three-vehicle crash with minor injuries on scene, and a flaming microwave that was thrown out of a two-story window effectively lighting up the patch of grass on the street side below.

Zayn drove home in silence, the seams of his mien slowly coming undone each mile closer to his flat. He was caving into himself before he could regain control. It wasn’t that Liam had a hold on Zayn that was bound so tight he could hardly breathe, but rather, his source of serenity was no longer the idea of that being a possibility. And Zayn was _hurt,_ Liam had hurt Zayn. Captain Payne did his job, fulfilling his duty successfully, but Liam took the rug from underneath Zayn’s feet, quashing the potential for his innermost declarations.

And Zayn _loved_ the man. And Zayn ached at the thought of it. Had their story ended before it began? He got out of his car quickly, entering his flat with so much as a glance to ensure he’d locked his car. His silence in response to Louis’ greeting alerting his friend of his present distressed state.

“Zayn, what happened?” He asked prudently and _god,_ it was sickening how apparent Zayn’s external emotions were.

He laughed despite himself, “Might’ve ruined just about the best thing I could’ve had comin’, or he did, I’m not sure.”

He stopped himself before he went into an incoherent bout of rambling and Louis didn’t need to catechize further to understand the extent of Zayn’s woes.

“ ’S fine, mate. How are you?” Zayn dismissed himself before redirecting his attention back to his friend.

Louis' dramatic reenactment of his day’s endeavors did little to put Zayn’s mind at ease, but he was grateful for the distraction it provided. Before he could retreat to his room for the night, Louis gave him a pitiful look, and the man groaned inwardly. A prompt escape to his room after a long day was not something Zayn had grown privy to living with a discerning Northerner.

“What happened?” Louis asked again calmly.

“I disobeyed Liam’s command on a call and it kind of blew up in my face, so to speak.”

“Oh Zayn,” Louis sighed and Zayn could almost cope with the way he was being pried open by the sharp blue eyes.

“I don’t know what I am to him at this point, Lou,” Zayn pinched the bridge of his nose, “I’m terrified to know what he thinks of me, of all of this.”

“Zee, the man’s proper gone for you. Surely you have that figured out by now.”

Zayn shook his head, “If you’d seen the way he looked at me. I don’t— I don’t know how I was able to sleep last night with him so close and—”

He couldn’t finish his remark. At this rate, he was only threatening himself. Louis came up behind him, offering a comforting squeeze to his shoulder as the candidate stared straight ahead at nothing.

“This isn’t how it goes for you. You’ll see. I promise, you’ll see.”

It wasn’t much, but Zayn knew to what Louis was referring. They’d often talked about the rewards of their sacrifices. What the universe had planned for them amongst the many others working to understand the intricacies of a world that ran hot and cold. He stripped out of his clothes, disposing them carelessly before throwing on a pair of sweats that were unquestionably Liam’s by the scent of them alone.

Sitting on the edge of his bed in the dark, nothing but the sound of flipped pages on the other side of his door occupying the space as he relived every moment, every rise in intonation, the realization in Liam’s eyes as he had heard what came out of his mouth. It didn’t work, they didn’t work in the circumstances they were granted and it was a cruel, cruel price to pay. But perhaps it was of Zayn’s doing. It was a free fall, just as everything he did was.

The gentle knock on the door had him feeling even more helpless, choosing to ignore his roommate's inevitably prying remarks, he laid back willing the man to take the hint and leave him to wallow in his designated sanctity. The knock came again and Zayn sighed.

“Lou, please, I’m exhausted.”

The door opened despite his protest and he rolled his eyes, sitting up, he was met with the most dejected brown eyes, leaving his breath to catch in his throat. Liam was in his doorway looking somber and completely worn from the day’s brutish antics. He looked more aged than Zayn had ever seen him, the irony of a birthday just passed.

“Hi,” he whispered, and Zayn finally breathed.


	9. Nine

"Hi," Liam spoke softly, “Louis let me in. Said to keep quiet.”

Zayn gaped at Liam through the ajar bedroom door, his hair damp like he had just showered, wearing a black LFB hooded sweatshirt and grey joggers and all Zayn wanted to do was wrap himself up in the comfort of those beautiful, strong arms. He looked to Liam quietly, gulping as he tried configuring what it was the man was doing here, in his house, the midnight hour creeping upon them.

With all that Liam had said, that they both said the evening before, Zayn didn’t know if he had the emotional capacity to withstand Liam’s presence so close to him, let alone the words that would inevitably spill. Liam opened the door wider, closing it behind him and moving closer to an unrelenting Zayn. He didn’t care how bare he’d been stripped, both literally and figuratively, and he continued to lay back on his elbows, nothing but Liam’s sweatpants adorning his delicate figure. Liam eyed him desperately, the desolate look causing another fissure in Zayn’s already fragile heart.

“Can I?” Liam asked softly, motioning to the spot beside Zayn on the bed.

Zayn sighed, closing his eyes before nodding slightly. In the darkness of the room, he was surprised Liam even registered the motion.

“Zee—”

“Liam,” Zayn cut in, sitting up to face him properly, “I can’t do this right now. I don’t have it in me.”

“Just listen to me then, you don’t have to say anything. I just need you to hear me out, alright?”

He knew there was no chance Liam was letting up or making any motion to leave the room before he had an opportunity to remedy the source of distress evident on his features. Liam looked down, reaching for Zayn’s hand tentatively as he spoke up.

“You terrify me, Zayn,” he breathed and Zayn’s heart clenched at the way Liam’s voice trembled.

“I can’t express to you how sorry I am. For my outburst, for the pain I caused. Fuck, I—I’m just so sorry, babe.”

Zayn squeezed his hand, silently acknowledging his words.

“I thought it’d be easy— to be with you, to be yours, both here and in the house but,” he paused to take a breath and meet Zayn’s gaze, “I can’t lose you, Zayn. And I’m terrified.”

The tears that threatened Zayn’s demeanor were nearing their spilling point, the way Liam’s discomposure tortured him, nearly breaking him. The pain Zayn was feeling as he gazed at Liam’s trembling figure was unrivaled. Being the cause of this beautiful man’s affliction, a Captain who acted on everything he did with his heart full and head leveled, he couldn’t bear it.

“Liam,” Zayn whispered, grabbing hold of his neck to bring their foreheads together. There wasn’t much more he could say to express what he had hoped he conveyed to Liam already. Both with his pleas for forgiveness back at the station, and now, as he silently accepted Liam’s words, his raw, honest words.

“You have me.”

And Zayn hadn’t uttered something with so much truth, assertion, veracity before now. If Liam’s own revelations in this sheer moment of intimacy and candor, rang true, there was no stopping Zayn from fully giving himself to the man who invaded his persistent musings.

“I didn’t mean what I said to you. You have to know I don’t think of you that way. I know you running into that house had nothing to do with me, or us. You needed to get to that boy, I know.”

“You have every right to be upset,” Zayn said shaking his head, “maybe there was a part of me that went in there thinking I could get away with it, I don’t know. But I put you in a terrible position when you were trying to do your job. And I’m sorry for the pain I caused _you_.”

Liam wrapped his arms around Zayn’s bare torso, pulling him in close. Zayn felt Liam’s breath tickle his neck and he faded into it. Feeling the expanse of the man’s pull, the safety he felt enveloping him. Zayn carded his fingers into Liam’s hair hearing him mewl at the touch.

“I want to be yours, Liam,” he whispered.

Liam breathed, planting the gentlest kiss on Zayn’s throat causing him to shudder in the embrace before Liam pulled away.

“You always were.”

And Zayn let go, willing the few tears to fall as he pushed Liam back against his bed, holding on to him as though it were the answer to his prayers, the solution to every internal dispute he grappled with. If Zayn had known any better, he’d say it wasn’t just the wetness of his own cheeks he felt when he pressed his lips to Liam’s, finally alleviating the part of himself he was missing.

Liam returned the fervid kiss, feeling his tongue break past Zayn’s lips and he gasped. Zayn’s body was heating in Liam’s embrace and he relished in it. He reveled in the feeling of Liam’s intrusion, his lips providing every bit of clarity, finalizing their unspoken conversation. Zayn could feel the remorse, the pain, the yearning for forgiveness with each advance Liam made, every inhale, every brush of his hands dancing on Zayn’s skin, making him feel hot and _alive_.

The nearly inaudible ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’ that continued to fall from his lips as he kissed every inch of Zayn’s skin trailing down to his chest and further and Zayn wanted to scream, his senses awakening from the lifeless state they were in for over a day now. A desolate vessel restarting with new purpose, with sustenance and nourishment to bare the battles that lay ahead, that’s who Zayn was in this moment. And as Liam paid intricately close attention to the black heart inked to Zayn’s hip, it was as though the world was painted in color he hadn’t yet seen before.

“Liam,” he breathed, looking down to a man who showed him so much admiration in every touch, “you have too many clothes on.”

Sensing the urgency in Zayn’s request, Liam smiled and came up to straddle Zayn’s torso, discarding his hoodie and plain white t-shirt in one swift motion. Zayn looked to the man above him in awe. How could such a beautiful mind, body, and _man_ be entirely Zayn’s, for his safekeeping, for his devotion, for his _love?_ He scanned Liam’s figure, taking in the flex of his muscles, the ripples of his abs, the artwork on his body parallel to his own.

“Let me take care of you,” Liam whispered as he hovered over Zayn.

The lower half of Liam’s body was pressed to his own, sensing the mutual arousal by the brush of their groins and Zayn moaned.

“Shouldn’t that be my job, birthday boy?” Zayn almost scoffed, feeling their bodies slit together like they were made to fit.

Liam shook his head, placing a feather-light kiss to his nose, “I want to make it up to you, show you what you mean to me.”

And Zayn almost couldn’t take it, the sincerity in his eyes as Liam held him close, the way he lightly brushed his hand over Zayn’s growing erection causing his mouth to fall agape.

“Will you let me?” Liam asked.

Zayn was so appreciative and constantly amazed by how considerate Liam was in their moments of intimacy. The man who could command any room he walked into treated Zayn with such delicacy, continuously reassuring that he had Zayn’s full assent to take control, to grab hold of him and let Liam show him what he was capable of. It was the gentlest touches mixed with an abiding strength and it made Zayn go weak.

He kissed the man, the answer went unspoken. Liam groaned as he moved to cradle Zayn’s legs, interlocking them behind his back so that their bodies were perfectly melded. Zayn felt the pressure increase as their bulges rubbed together excruciatingly. They had slept together several times over the last few weeks, but _this,_ this felt different. And Zayn could sense Liam felt the same. The way their bodies moved in unison, the chemistry of every touch capable of lighting up the darkest hour.

Hardly any words were exchanged as Liam reached over into Zayn’s nightstand, grabbing the small bottle he kept stored there for their sexual escapades. Zayn heaved as Liam slowly lowered his joggers, his bare cock springing upwards. Liam groaned, meeting Zayn’s eyes with a new fire ignited within his own.

“I’ll never be able to get enough of you,” Liam said, peering down at Zayn.

Zayn didn’t know if he should cry, scream, or simply moan at the notion of being all consumed. He whimpered quietly as Liam opened him up carefully with a finger and the tip of his tongue to start. His mind raced as the pleasure shot through his body, coursing his veins as Liam divulged in his sentiments with the flick of his tongue. He knew he could lie like this forever, in unalloyed ecstasy, with a beautifully strong Liam between his legs.

He groaned as he felt more fingers push their way past his rim, Liam curling them slightly to maximize Zayn’s pleasure and he was in awe. His mouth hung open, shameless noises he willed to escape leaving little regard to the other member still currently occupying the flat. Flipping Zayn over so he could muffle his groans into his pillow, Liam continued the meticulous job, prolonging Zayn’s pleasure for as long as he could hold out for.

Liam carefully removed his fingers to Zayn’s discontent, which quickly transformed into more of his infinite need to _have_ Liam as the man flipped him over once again. Liam placed more kisses on Zayn’s lips as Zayn grabbed the bottle, lathering up his own hand to Liam’s confusion. He grabbed hold of Liam’s cock, stroking gracefully in practiced motions, causing Liam’s mouth to fall open, unabashed moans slipping out as he rested his head on Zayn’s shoulder. He had hoped to provide at least a fragment of the passion, pleasure, blissful indulgence that Liam so selflessly granted him. After a few more strokes, Liam grabbed hold of Zayn’s hand and replaced it with his own, carefully lining himself up. Liam propped one of Zayn’s legs above his shoulder before pushing in, easing his way into Zayn slowly and with practiced precision.

Both men groaned in unison at the sensation. They moved together gracefully, a dance of two lovers in the throes of passion, filled with devotion and the need for more ignition. Liam’s movements were coordinated, Zayn gasping when his thrusts came at precisely the right angle. They moved together in waves, Zayn biting Liam’s shoulder when the feeling became too much. Liam growled and took Zayn’s lips with his own and Zayn could feel the tears well at the corner of his eyes. Filled with emotion so unbearably overpowering, Zayn could hardly withstand his composure.

“You’re incredible,” Liam breathed, his movements intensifying, his thrusts hitting deeper than they had before and Zayn wanted to scream.

His heart was wide open for Liam’s taking and the man held onto every sentiment Zayn exuded.

Liam took Zayn’s neglected cock that lied between them into his hands, stroking in sync with his thrusts, sensing that Zayn was nearing his release, he pushed in once more before Zayn was spilling between them, Liam’s name on his lips. Liam basked in the sight before him, Zayn feeling so close to breaking, overwhelmed by everything he felt. He pulled Liam close as he continued to thrust erratically into Zayn. He brought their lips together before pulling them apart, Zayn gazing up into the warmest, most tender eyes and he couldn’t contain himself any longer.

“I love you, Li,” he whispered and Liam’s eyes widened his mouth going slack as he came deep inside Zayn.

He collapsed on top of Zayn, eyes closed, breaths heaving and slowing in pace.

“Zayn,” Liam spoke as the world came back into focus for them both, “say that again.”

Zayn was far too gone to analyze the intent behind Liam’s request. He also had no mind to process what he had just said or how it resonated with the man currently blanketing his lax body. He moved to the side so that Liam’s face was no longer buried in his neck and looked to the man’s hopeful gaze.

“I said I love you, Liam,” and there was nothing more he could say that held the same measure of truth.

Liam smiled. Ordinarily, Zayn would laugh at the man who looked like an ambitious child told he got three more chances at the ring toss to win the largest prize, but Zayn couldn’t ruin a moment so pure.

Liam shook his head and kissed Zayn, cradling his face as he pulled back and stared into his soul unashamed.

“I love you, Zee. More than you’ll know.”

This moment was for them and theirs only, no greater power writing their futures could deter the virtue of the sheer beauty that this juncture held.

*****

“You’re mad if you think I’d willingly choose physical exertion on my day off, Payne.”

Zayn gave the man holding the pair of gloves out to him the most befuddled look he could muster, his arms on his hips in defiance of the request Liam just made.

“C’mon babe, it’s a really good way to get out all your pent up energy. ’S good for the heart, too.”

“Yeah, I can name plenty of other ways to get out my energy, involving much more gratifying end results too.”

“Zayn,” Liam deadpanned.

Zayn rolled his eyes, scoffing in acquiescence, before he zipped off his jacket and tossed it to his bag. Liam had rung Zayn earlier that day after leaving the candidate’s flat in the early hours to return home. He invited Zayn to join him in his usual out-of-work enterprises, something Liam had been deterred from as of late given the time-consuming activities of their recently initiated affair.

That’s how Zayn wound up at a small, nearly vacant gym in the heart of Shepherd’s Bush on an early Thursday afternoon, staring incredulously at a sweating fire captain holding up two boxing pads with matching gloves strung over his shoulders. Zayn was reluctant at first, insistent that he needn’t take any part in the soreness he’d inevitably feel on top of what he already ailed sleeping in the god-awful beds at the station. But Zayn couldn’t handle the look of the man’s ridiculous puppy eyes as he tried convincing Zayn to give the boxing a go for the better part of ten minutes.

“Give ‘em here,” Zayn urged.

Liam smiled triumphantly, letting Zayn put the gloves on before holding them up for Liam to fasten.

“This is something you do regularly?” Zayn asked curiously.

Liam shrugged, “I used to a lot when I was younger, helped me loads in school. But I didn’t pick it up again until after my first tour. Was a nice way for me to let go of a lot of the unresolved feelings I had coming back here.”

Zayn made a noise of understanding. It was admirable, the way Liam could so easily seek active solutions to improve the quality of his life in any aspect he could. The way he constantly strived to make himself a better version of who he undoubtedly was. Zayn hadn’t thought of such outlets, opting to run right back into the storm whenever the perpetual itch stirred inside him again.

“You know what you gotta do?” Liam asked, holding up the pads in preparation.

“S’pose I got the right idea,” Zayn replied, raising his arms and squaring his shoulders before throwing the first punch.

The two got into a rhythm quickly and Zayn would be lying if he said it didn’t feel good, no, _amazing._ Not only the way his fists met the hard surface so seamlessly, with all the force he willed, but the way Liam coached him through it so calmly, reassuring what he got right, correcting in areas that needed correcting. And the two of them worked like that, like a unit, giving and taking when and where they needed.

Zayn hit and dodged and ducked and he _released_. Every punch was a memory, each strike a source of despair, anguish, fear, and Zayn could set himself free with it. And Liam cheered him on, encouraging with each swing, praising the way Zayn could unite with himself and liberated the pain that never strayed too far from his shadow. And Zayn was happy.

Perhaps it was the endorphins, or the way Liam planted a kiss on his sweaty forehead as they concluded the session, but Zayn didn’t want the feeling to dissipate, and a part of him knew it wouldn’t, despite the prudent voice in the back of his head trying to convince him otherwise. Liam sought out a few more rounds on the punching bag as Zayn observed quietly, dousing himself in water and admiring the man from where he sat along the brick wall. Only a few people had come and gone in the hour they were there, most likely having to do with the hour of the day. Firefighters were a different breed of worker with their unorthodox schedules.

“Ready?” Liam asked, panting as he approached Zayn, toweling off his neck.

“For what?”

“I’m takin’ you out, baby.”

Zayn could get used to this, having the attention of a wonderfully fond, devoted man offering him phrase and adoration. He figured he deserved as much after 27 years of perpetual self-inflicted torment. He smiled as Liam grabbed his hand, hauling him to his feet as the two made their way to the door.

“But first,” Liam paused, “shower. You smell rank, Zayn.”

Zayn laughed at Liam’s faux seriousness, nudging him gently as Liam intertwined their fingers. _Yeah,_ Zayn could get used to this.

*****

It was fairly warm for a September night in London and Zayn enjoyed the way the breeze danced across his skin, feeling a few strands of his falling quiff brush across his forehead as he stared at the man sitting opposite of him. They were at a quaint Indian restaurant nestled in the southwest corner of Hyde Park and Zayn found it particularly charming. The two men sat outside, opting to enjoy the tranquil dusk hour on one of the few nights the weather was bearable enough.

Although their exuberant venture began a month prior, this was the first time Zayn and Liam had been out together, on a proper date. And it was nice, Zayn feeling some semblance of normalcy as they chatted about nothing in particular. The food was precise to Zayn’s liking and he was pleasantly surprised by how well Liam took to the spicy dishes he ordered for the two of them to share.

For the first time in many years, Zayn’s world was stable, the fragments of his life coming together and falling into an adequate standstill. Zayn had a job he loved, something that provided him financial stability and a suitable route to retirement, a man who _loved_ him _,_ who was less afraid to take the risks that once confined him, who was willing to epitomize what it meant to be a partner so effortlessly. Sure, Zayn had accomplishments to show for himself, but for once, the insatiable voracity that kept his head on a revolving axis finally decelerated enough for Zayn to catch his breath. He could think about where life could take him and not be filled with an overwrought need to escape from it all.

The way Liam looked at Zayn, as though his presence was inimitable, like nothing in the world compared to the feeling of having the man’s absolute, unshared attention. And Zayn knew the extent of the dangers he had to share the beautiful man with, knew that it was only a matter of time before he paid the price for his selfishness, for keeping Liam from the world, for his naivety to it all. The way one spark, one flame, one match had the power to dissipate all that they were and had become in such a short time, Zayn chose not to over-indulge himself in the thought. Because Liam was seated across from him, well beyond sated by the looks of it. A soft smile graced his features as he was lost in thought, leaning back in his chair before breaking the comfortable silence they had fallen into.

“You should come with me to Wolverhampton the next holiday we get.”

Zayn made his best attempt to attune the incredulous look that undeniably occupied his face at the suggestion.

“You’ve told your family about me, then?” He was trying hard to contain the feeling Liam’s words had caused.

Liam chuckled, “Well after realizing this wasn’t a one up and done situation—thought it time I’d clue them into the real reason I’d been calling less.”

Zayn smiled, trying to picture what the journey would entail.

“That’s what? Nearly a three-hour drive, innit?”

“Well, that’s not a no I’m hearing,” Liam replied, “We can make a whole trip out of it, go up to see your family as well.”

“Someone’s rather ambitious,” Zayn huffed.

He couldn’t help the fluttering feeling he got at the thought of the two of them, seeing their place of origins, meeting the people that raised such a wonderfully cordial man as Liam. Zayn did his best to school his expression, not wanting to give away the galvanizing anticipation he felt.

“C’mon Zayn. It wouldn’t be for a while anyway. And besides, by the time the next opportunity rolls around, it may very well be six months from now,” Liam explained, “You _know_ my parents will absolutely adore you.”

And how could Zayn ever refuse a man who looked so optimistic, hopeful for the brightest outcomes, wearing his heart proudly on his sleeve without shame or fear of repercussion? Zayn took in the man before him, reaching over to give Liam’s hand a slight squeeze.

“I’d love to, Liam.”

“Good,” Liam smiled excitedly, “It’s a plan, then.”

Zayn couldn’t be bothered to speculate if the proposal was an indicator of their moving way faster than they needed to, faster than he had initially anticipated. He could appreciate how sure Liam was, not only about them, but about what he wanted from life, a happiness Zayn was happy to provide. And if the candidate were going to situate his plans for the future around anything— _anyone—_ he couldn’t ask for a better option than the man who’s smile had the power to infiltrate his heart and illuminate his essence. Zayn couldn’t ask for anything more than the fortitude to love and be loved, and damn it all to hell if he couldn’t spend each moment thanking Liam for the gift he was granted.

*****

“ _Horan where the fuck did you leave the jaws this time?_ ” Zayn heard Samuels shout across the garage.

He was decontaminating four pairs of boots just outside the station’s door, one of the many lowly tasks appointed to candidates in their early months at the brigade. Zayn felt more than a little exhausted stemming from the lack of sleep granted by a 4 AM dispatch, which turned out to be an upsetting false alarm. Turns out that 80-year-old women nearing the late stages of dementia should, in fact, not keep 999 on their speed-dial. The candidate observed his coworkers’ interaction from afar, chuckling as he witnessed the apparent scuffle Samuels and Horan had just gotten into over God knows what.

Zayn scrubbed away, his eyes catching Liam’s from afar. The captain was detailing the items aboard the engine just as Zayn’s view was obscured by the man who now stood hovering over him with arms crossed.

“Boynton,” Zayn said plainly as he nodded curtly.

Boynton’s civility with the candidate increased steadily over the last few weeks, offering slightly more than the one-word remarks that Zayn would catch every now and then. He attributed it to the man’s gradual understanding that Zayn was not like the many other probationary officers making their way through the house, rather he had every intention of coming out on the other side of his probationary period, contributing as much as he possibly could to each enterprise that lied in waiting for the crew to conquer.

“You’re up for lunch duty, Candidate,” He gave Zayn a once over, waiting for him to oblige.

Zayn sighed and put down the shoes and brushes. “Very well,” he said, standing stiffly as he brushed past the man offering him nothing more than a nod.

Just as he began pulling ingredients for the macaroni salad Roberts had been imploring him to make the last three shifts, he heard Horan shout for him to come back outside. Confused and curious, the candidate reentered the garage before he was faced with a beaming Louis Tomlinson gawking at the engine.

“This is a thing of beauty. Zayn, how come you’ve never brought me here before?” Louis asked, turning to the still baffled-looking candidate.

“Lou, what are you doing here?” He asked, trying to understand the reason for his friend’s sudden appearance, and why he wasn’t on the campus that consumed all of his time and energy.

“You really don’t listen to a thing I say, do yeh?” Louis feigned a hurt expression as he stalked over to Liam, greeting him casually.

“Your friend sure knows how to keep a crowd interested,” Horan affirmed as he approached Zayn. They watched on as Louis seemed to partake in a dramatic reenactment of a damsel in distress hanging off the side of the engine. Liam and Samuels looking on in amusement.

Zayn sighed and shook his head marching over to Louis before his friend could get any other creative ideas with the large red apparatus as his playground.

“Louis,” Zayn deadpanned.

“Oh would you relax, I just wanted to see what your second home looked like. Finished my RS presentation about an hour ago and I have some time before I meet Harry for lunch,” Louis explained.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Show me around. Or do I have to get Liam to do it for me?” Louis teased and Zayn’s jaw clenched, stiffening at the casual mention of the man whose first name was not ordinarily used on station grounds.

“Let’s go,” Zayn quelled, leading his smug friend into the station. Before they could get further than the common area, the dispatch alarm sounded, causing Louis to jump.

_“Engine 33, Ambulance 53, house fire, 5 Lansdowne Lane.”_

“Duty calls,” Zayn stated before turning for the exit, “you better hurry if you want to see us in action, Lou!” He called as he ran towards the engine.

Louis followed hastily, watching the men suit up in seconds before climbing into the engines. The last thing Zayn saw as Horan pulled them out of the station was Louis waving proudly, like a mother sending her child on his first day of school. Zayn rolled his eyes before focusing his attention on Liam who was audibly preparing them for the scene.

“The houses in that entire area are brick. Our real concern is preserving the substructure depending on how far the fire’s spread, got that Candidate?” Liam asked, looking to Zayn through the rear-view mirror.

He nodded, taking in the information carefully, Liam continued to issue orders as the men fastened their helmets. They pulled up to the scene in a matter of minutes. It was a big house indeed, the only signal of a fire in action the smoke that funneled through the windows. A woman came striding towards them seemingly unharmed from what Zayn could determine.

“Can you tell us what happened, Miss?” Chief Deluca asked.

“I’m not quite sure. I got home and I saw the smoke coming from upstairs. I hardly made it up before I saw the flames as well. My father keeps a lot of candles in the sitting room up there, but I don’t even know if he’s home. Oh, God! I don’t know—is he still in there?”

She was growing increasingly frantic, the chief urging her to remain calm.

“I’ll get my men in there to search for your father, it’ll all be alright.”

“Okay, Malik, Samuels, you’re on primary search. Horan, let’s get this house vented before it can’t sustain the heat. Let’s have that hose ready,” Liam instructed with a nod to Zayn.

“You got this, Probie,” he added moving past the candidate and Zayn beamed.

He still had another three months in his position at the very least, but the confidence he felt each of his crewmates had instilled left him reassured of his purpose and commitment to his role. And what a _rush_ it was, bursting through the doors like the challenge was his for the taking, where Zayn could be the hero his younger self always aspired to be, reading about strong, brave men on paper, illuminating his desire and drive.

He and Samuels started up the stairs and into the thick of the inferno. The largest room on the floor, no doubt being the sitting room the woman explained to them. The flames were all-encompassing, Zayn couldn’t tell left from right. He scoured the room, making his way around each couch, which seemed to be the source of the fire. A candle catching on the flammable material being the only explanation for a house of this caliber going up the way it did.

“Candidate, you continue in here, I’ll search down the hall!” Samuels shouted as Zayn gave him a wave of acknowledgment.

“Sir, it’s the fire brigade, can you call out?” Zayn shouted to no direction in particular.

“Fire brigade!” He repeated and the flames continued to escalate.

Zayn could feel his body rapidly heat through his gear as he dodged the flames. His heartbeat quickened at the thought of time rushing him faster than he could comprehend. He faltered through the room, his vision clouding as he bounded towards any possible escape route.

“Samuels, do you have a clear path out of here?” Zayn inquired through his radio.

He made another attempt when he couldn’t hear a reply come in, the space around him growing smaller by the second, “Samuels, do you copy?”

It was the first time Zayn had felt the unnerving feeling settle into his bones in the midst of a call, the menacing, intrusive thought that a feasible end was not in his grips. The floor below him no longer felt as stable as it had just moments ago and the thundering flames concealed the sound of the foundation crackling around him.

“This isn’t looking good, Captain!” He called to Liam through his radio as he got over to the wall, using it as a guide to lead him out.

The candidate didn’t have a chance to think, let alone convey a final message before it happened. In the blink of an eye, Zayn heard the deafening final boom and felt the room around him crumble, bricks falling through the ceiling and crashing in hoards. He took one final breath before he allowed the force to pull him under.

The last thing he heard as his body ran hot, and then cold, was his name being called from a veiled distance. A final image flashing through his mind of a boyish smile and crinkled brown eyes and the world around him went dark.


	10. Ten

The flames had yet to spread to the lower level of the house as Liam rummaged through the rooms. The smoke beginning to encircle him causing him to consume the compressed air strapped to his back faster than he deemed ideal, but his larger concern lied with how quickly the house’s foundation appeared to be heating up around them. He turned to Horan who’d been sweeping the rooms in search of the man still potentially within the premises. There was nothing particularly extravagant about the call. Liam had been in this line of work long enough to know the case of the call would be open and shut, but that would hardly deter him from keeping his attention narrowly focussed on the procedures that would safely get his men through these tiresome exploits. As he continued to assess the area in haste, the flames encompassing the upstairs level growing steadily louder, he came to an expeditious conclusion that the highest priority of the call would be to get the fire subdued.

“We need that hose line up on the second floor, Horan. There’s not much we can do without containing this thing first,” Liam instructed.

“Copy that, Captain,” Horan replied, following Liam back outside and towards the engine.

The two men walked in stride, recollecting the hose from where Boynton had propped it up on the street before gathering it for reentry. Liam surveyed the scene again, noticing the extent to which the blaze had swelled since their initial arrival. His heart picked up when he considered the two firefighters still inside. Liam had all the confidence in both Samuels and the candidate, knowing Zayn was perfectly capable of navigating his way through a disaster. A standard house fire certainly was not an exception to the man’s excellence and innate inclination to the job.

“Samuels, do we have an unobstructed path to the second floor?” Liam inquired through his radio.

 _“Gotta get in here quick, Cap_ ,” Samuels’ voice crackled through, “ _fire’s expanding to the west bedrooms. You should be clear from the stairs_.”

Liam verbally acknowledged the message before he grabbed hold of the hose, hoisting it up with Horan following closely behind.

“’S not feeling right, Payne, we may have underestimated this thing,” Horan cautioned as they reopened the fence.

The very dread Horan voiced Liam could feel settle into his skin. Not only was the fire augmenting much faster than he had anticipated upon issuing the initial assignments, but he had no way of knowing what was going on just above them, what his men—what _Zayn—_ was being subjugated to. They moved for the door, Liam set with all the determination to get this quandary over with as soon as possible. He hadn’t heard from Zayn since he and Samuels first entered the house, a thought that did even less to nullify the goading feeling of malaise creeping upon him.

It was as though a god above had heard his silent dismay when Liam heard the ever-alluring voice come through his radio. But it was hardly the message he had hoped to hear.

“ _This isn’t looking good, Captain!”_ Zayn shouted through the radio, his voice laced with fear and panic.

Before his heart had a chance to plummet or his brain to process a coherent message to send in response, a large thundering sound stopped him and Horan in their tracks. In a matter of seconds, Liam looked up to see the large brick chimney deteriorate in front of his eyes, the structure caving in on itself and toppling into the house.

The air went still, everyone around Liam freezing and his own body going horridly stiff. His face paled and his fists clenched tightly around the raw materials of the hose, and his heart stopped as he watched the nightmarish scene unfold. What went by in five seconds felt like five hours as the remaining crew members outside awaited a sign, _anything_ to connote what had just happened. When sound and reason and reality caught up with him, Liam heard Chief Deluca calling for Samuels to report through the radio. The captain’s mind and body slowly beginning to work in overdrive, he used every remaining ounce of self-restraint to wait for the message to come through, a message that would consequently determine his own life’s fate from this moment onwards.

Never in Liam’s twenty-seven years had a silence been so unbearable, so unbelievably torturous that contemplating whether the uncertain death of running straight into the thick of the collapse seemed like the only possible recourse. But Liam waited, and he waited, and he refused to release the breath expanding his lungs. The only notion keeping his feet planted in their spot was one painfully undeniable truth; he was a captain, _a leader_ first _._

_“Mayday! Mayday! Firefighter down! Malik’s down!”_

And Liam’s world, and his concept of reality, ceased to exist. His heart was no longer beating in his chest, his fear was not settled inside himself but rather in the heart that was upstairs underneath rubble, bricks, ash, and flames. At that moment, Liam no longer had the capacity to be a captain, no longer able to regard his own safety for the sake of preserving those who still stood around him. And with a heart outside of himself, and a mind drifting too far to temper, he bolted in.

“Cap!” Yelled Horan only for it to fall on deaf ears.

“ _Malik_!” Liam cried before Horan or the chief had the chance to gather the captain’s bearings for his sake.

Liam bounded up the stairs and straight into the flames. His only present thoughts were the images and sounds that surrounded him: smoke, flames, more smoke, Samuels shouting, the sound of Zayn’s PASS device alerting the two men of his precise location under the debris, his own breathing, bricks, dust, darkness, so many _goddam bricks._

“Zayn!” Liam shouted trudging through the obstruction and closer to the incessant beeping.

“ _Payne, report!”_ Chief Deluca radioed, but Liam couldn’t think to give the man a response.

He could hear Boynton and Horan entering the house, the hose dragging beside them. The sounds of their footsteps coming up behind Liam brought him back down to earth, if only for a second. He could see Samuels dodging the flames to get closer to the site of the collapse. Liam looked back to his men at the top of the footsteps, their stances squared away as they positioned the hose.

“Blast the damn thing!” He yelled before moving to the pile of bricks where the man who became Liam’s sole reason for being lied motionless.

Horan and Boynton increased the water’s pressure and began working to extinguish the flames from their incineration point in the center of the room. Without any deliberation or thought to how stable the room’s foundation was from where he stood, Liam began hauling the bricks, his chest clenching each time Zayn’s PASS device sounded a little louder.

“C’mon, Zayn!” He called desperately, ignoring the way his throat stung from the lump growing bigger, threatening to crack his composure.

He detected a sliver of Zayn’s jacket and the round of his helmet as he hurled the bricks, disregarding Samuels’ pleas for the captain to proceed with caution. None of it mattered, his heed, the prudence that was required of him as a commanding officer, it had deteriorated the moment the house collapsed on itself, and Liam’s world within it. He ignored the way his eyes brimmed with wetness, the way he could no longer feel his own body working, the way the compressed air he breathed went taut as he got impossibly closer to Zayn.

“Captain, watch it,” He heard Horan call warily from where he stood.

Liam could almost decipher the way his friend made attempts to ground him, trying to permeate through the shield Liam had put up the second he entered the room, but he just shook his head, dismissing Niall’s bid as he lifted the final fragments keeping Zayn under.

“Zayn, can you say something?”

Liam knew the image would haunt him to his dying breath. The candidate’s suit was hardly distinguishable in color, covered in soot and tattered all over, his helmet misshapen from the heat and the weight of the wreckage, and Liam wanted to scream until the pain ceased to course through his body. Samuels continued moving the pieces of the chimney that kept the candidate's legs pinned down as Liam dropped to his knees moving to get level with Zayn’s face. He could hardly see his expression through the fogged breathing apparatus, but it didn’t take Liam long to discern that Zayn had lost total consciousness, his eyes clamped shut.

“I need to get him out of here now!” Liam shouted to his men, “Clear the way, I’m getting him out!”

He moved to turn Zayn over, effortlessly hoisting him in his arms as he chanted “ _I got you, I got you.”_ at a volume strictly meant for Zayn’s ears, only for Zayn. Liam moved quickly, forcing himself to look ahead at his path rather than the man who laid unmoving in his arms. He didn’t look back to his men nor Samuels who kept steadily beside him, ensuring the route to safety was clear. Liam couldn’t hear anything around him, couldn’t pay mind to the explanation Samuels was issuing about how it all happened, about why Zayn was alone when the chimney fell in. Liam saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing but the weight of the body in his arms, the body he worshipped at every waking moment. He got to the door and outside the house as quickly as he could muster, filing straight for the stretcher waiting beside the ambulance with two weary-looking medics _._ He placed Zayn down before removing the mask preventing Liam from determining whether not his life was about to end as he knew it. Taking off his own breathing apparatus, he stared down at the man, assessing his face and body as he pulled open the coat and pressed his fingers to Zayn's neck.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, “I’m so sorry I sent you in there. I had no idea, Zee. I’m so sorry.”

Roberts and Gutierrez approached steadily, but Liam could only see Zayn, dirtied and unmoving and tragically beautiful. He let out a ragged breath when he felt a weak, but present pulse, a sob ripped through him that he had no concept was in him. Looking up at Gutierrez who stood there wide-eyed and equally distraught, he noticed the manual resuscitator in her hand and his brain sprung back into overdrive.

“He has a pulse, but he’s not breathing,” he stated frantically.

The female medic nodded quickly as she and Roberts began to examine Zayn’s airways. Liam kept his hand firmly placed on Zayn’s leg as he turned to see the rest of the men retreating from the house, all looking equally fearful as they strode over to the ambulance, encircling the captain from behind. Liam turned to meet Horan’s eyes, his face pale and ridden with dismay. Liam bit his lip and turned back to see Roberts beginning to intubate Zayn and it all became too much. He could feel his face burn with the tears that fell as he let his head fall into Zayn’s lap.

“Captain,” he heard Samuels say cautiously behind him.

The voice snapped Liam out of his regard. Searing, hot anger quickly flooding him when he looked up, locking eyes with the weary man who had just called to him. Liam’s jaw clenched and he charged for Samuels, taking fistfuls of his coat with him as he slammed him into the engine.

“You were supposed to have his back! How could you let this happen? You were supposed to stay with him!” Liam yelled, causing Samuels’ eyes to go wide with his arms raised in cession.

“Hey,” Horan tried carefully, placing an arm on Liam’s shoulder, to which he shook off.

“I trusted you to keep him safe in there!”

The knowing looks set into everyone’s faces as the desperation seeped out of Liam’s voice caused him to stumble backward, taking his weight off Samuels’ relenting body. Liam shook his head, turning back to see Roberts administering the breaths for Zayn. Without another look to the quietly apologetic man he had just assaulted, Liam removed his jacket, tossing it to Horan before following the stretcher into the ambulance, seating himself next to Roberts before taking Zayn’s limp hand into his own. He couldn’t bear to look back at the men he had undoubtedly just shaken with the realization of all that he felt, all that Zayn was to him. The ambulance departed quickly and just as they were about to turn the corner, Liam spared one final glance to the scene behind him, scanning the men he had vowed to lead with loyalty and bravery, and feeling as though he embodied neither of those qualities.

*****

_The warmth of Liam’s legs in his lap felt nice. The comfort of the weight provided a special form of security that Zayn needed to sort through all of the photos sprawled out on the floor between them. It was the first time since he’d returned from the last deployment that he dared to look at them. Peering down at the photo he held in his hands almost felt surreal, as though Zayn was looking at a different Zayn, living in a universe parallel to his own. He could hardly recognize the man in the photos; young, ambitious, fearless, thriving on the unknown wake. The discovery of the envelope in the bottom drawer of his dresser left a daunting feeling lingering within him, terrified of the remembrances and the sentiments the images would trigger. He wasn’t sure what frightened him more, the memories of what he’d seen, suffered, and confronted in a life so far removed from the one he’s currently living, or the idea that he’d long for the solace the alternate life had provided. He couldn’t bear the idea that looking back would reopen the gaping hole in his chest only filled by the misfortunes of war, or serving a purpose so far removed from his own that he becomes engrained and bred in a false identity. Zayn was terrified of an all-consuming nostalgia, too enticing for him to deter his indulgence._

_He had taken the envelope out carefully when he and Liam sat in the captain’s secluded space on the soft carpet, a space that had become a site of safety, tranquility, and escape for them both. Zayn handed the envelope over to Liam silently, realization only dawning on Liam's face once he pulled out a photo or two. And he had been so gentle with Zayn when offering a silent appeal for permission, so considerate of what it had meant for Zayn to reopen this chapter of life with a man he had hoped was the conclusion to it._

_“Was a lifetime ago,” Zayn mumbled as he glanced over all of the photos spread around them._

_“Wow you—you really did a lot when you were out there, didn’t you?” Liam asked as he looked between two photos in his lap._

_Zayn shrugged, “The first tour I was sent to Bastion, just outside Lashkar Gah, right before it closed,” he bit his lip, staring at a photo of Louis and himself in the middle of a field, fully suited in their combat attire, “Saw more severed limbs in a week than I’d go just about my whole life seeing here.”_

_Liam stared at the photos incredulously, shaking his head with raised eyebrows as he went through them, “God, Zayn,” he sighed, “I was only sent to Afghanistan for Toral. They didn’t keep me long, just to train some of the forces in fire rescue. I can’t even imagine—.”_

_Liam didn’t need to finish for Zayn to assume what would follow. It’s what they all thought as they offered the unnecessarily sympathetic looks; Zayn got it bad, the raw deal, being sent away from his station in the UK to the rugged terrain and unavoidable bloodshed. It was a depleting thought. There was such a high demand for medics during his first tour, encounters with IEDs were as frequent as switching on the radio, and Zayn would never be able to shake the feeling that comes with being conditioned to the calamity, desensitized to it all._

_“We all have our plights,” Zayn said, tossing the photos on the ground with a sigh._

_“Zayn,” Liam’s tone was as cautious as the restrained look in his eyes, “I understand if this is really hard for you but, just— thank you for showing me, for letting me in,” he said scooting closer and pressing a gentle kiss to Zayn’s shoulder._

_Zayn stared into his lap, it took only the mere shards of durability he had left to quash the internal battle raging in his head. The temptation to expend himself with the internal turmoil, his yearning for the man he saw in each photo as opposed to a future who sat beside him, unconditional and unwavering._

_“Looking at these photos, it just makes me think, like, ‘screw this life’, you know?” Zayn said softly, finally meeting Liam’s gaze._

_“What are you talking about? Are you talking about—”_

_“No. Liam, no of course not.”_

_Liam’s body visibly relaxed, but the fretful look in his eyes remained. This is precisely the reason Zayn had trouble articulating his feelings on the matter, why the struggle continued to brew without dissipation. Zayn turned to face Liam, his legs crossed as he cupped Liam’s cheek._

_“I mean this ‘civilian life’, Li.” Zayn’s heart beat steadily as he continued, “Look, I’m not sayin’ Afghanistan was…all rainbows and splendor. There were some days I could even argue it was hell on earth. But at least when I was there, things made sense. Things mattered. Not just what I did. All of it mattered. And sometimes I scare myself, thinking like this, like I’m still in sync with myself out there, rather than here at home,” Zayn met Liam’s eyes desperately._

_Liam took Zayn’s hand from where it rested and squeezed it in reassurance. His eyes still sad, but kind, and telling to how he’d interpreted Zayn’s admission._

_“Why are you scared of it?”_

_Zayn inhaled, biting the inside of his cheek as he struggled to find the words that could embody all that he felt without raising alarm._

_“What if I’m not cut out for this? For a life with you like this? What if I can’t stop running towards danger?”_

_“Zayn, we’re firefighters, that’s kind of what we do.”_

_Zayn rolled his eyes and smiled, appreciating Liam’s futile attempt to provide his aggrieved contemplation some ease._

_“You know what I mean.”_

_Liam stared at Zayn before sighing and moving to straddle his lap before he spoke._

_“I don’t doubt you’ll spend the rest of your life figuring out which world you rightfully belong in, which life you were made for. But if you’ll let me, Zayn, I’ll spend all my days trying to prove to you that you belong in the one with me by your side.”_

_Zayn closed his eyes, taking in the words with a swallow and a shaky breath. Realistically, it’d take years for him to accept if this is what he truly merited. If Liam was who he deserved, a life that could be so effortlessly right. But with the weight of Liam in his lap, and eyes that were so impossibly endearing, Zayn knew the strive towards embracing the feeling that had him intoxicated in the love he shared would just about be the one thing mending his sanity._

_Zayn nodded in acquiescence and he let go._

*****

His throat was sore, that was his first thought. Why was his throat sore? _When was I intubated? Fuck, my arm hurts._ The soft sounds of the monitor beeping beside his head brought Zayn out of a dark, barren abyss. He remained still, refusing to open his eyes before he could muster a more lucid understanding of where he was, of what had happened to him. He felt a dull throb traveling up his arm and a much more resonant pain in his side. He winced internally as his body stiffened. Zayn was undoubtedly in a hospital bed, which was made utterly clear by the tape on his arm, the tubes in his nose, and the beeping that was getting more intrusive by the second. He hadn’t thought to open his eyes until he registered the weight on his legs, and the warm hold on one of his hands. He chose to peak open his eyes when he figured the weight was definitely of the human form. Zayn grimaced at the unbearably blinding light before letting his vision adjust. Liam had a chair pulled up to the side of his bed, he had fallen asleep atop Zayn’s lap and in ordinary circumstances, he would’ve cooed, or perhaps snapped a picture for safe and potentially mischievous keeping.

Liam looked exhausted, from what Zayn could tell, completely drained, and so vulnerable, and it was no doubt in part to the events leading to Zayn’s current locale. When he thoroughly reexamined himself to know he wasn’t near death or in dire need of immediate medical assistance, he finally chose to alert the sleeping beauty of his newly conscious state. With one more breath, he squeezed Liam’s hand, then moving to card his fingers through the short sandy-brown locks. Liam’s eyes fluttered open and he immediately startled. Zayn snorted softly, the man beside him looked so endearing, it was all getting to be too much. But he chose to maintain his lax demeanor, if not for himself then to quell the heartbreaking look on Liam’s face.

“Zayn,” Liam whispered, the shock evident in his voice.

Zayn pursed his lips together before speaking up, “If I knew any better I’d say you look worse than me right now.”

“ _Zayn_ , baby oh my god,” and Liam was on his feet, hovering over Zayn as he carefully placed a hand on his face and the other through his hair, “you’re okay. I—”

Liam’s voice got caught in his throat and Zayn offered a reassuring smile to let the man know that was indeed doing fine, except for the lingering pain causing him to wince. Liam noticed his discomfort quickly as he stood back to scan his body.

“What hurts right now?”

Zayn grunted, squeezing his eyes shut, “My left side.”

Liam nodded before starting for the door, “Okay, I’ll go get the nurse to up your meds,” he stated and Zayn gripped his wrist with his one unconstrained hand, urging him to a halt.

“Li, I’ll live for a few minutes longer without a doctor pokin’ and prodding at me. Just— can you tell me what happened?”

Liam sighed, his jaw clenched before he acceded, coming back to sit beside Zayn and taking hold of his hand once more.

“What was the last thing you remember?”

Zayn thought back to the scene of the call; smoke, flames, creaky floorboards, shouting, _no way out._

“I was trying to navigate my way through that room, Samuels had left to search the hall. I don’t— I don’t think I remember anything past that.”

Liam nodded, the pained expression only reemerging as Zayn recounted what had happened.

“The chimney collapsed before you or Samuels had a chance to evacuate. The woman’s father, he wasn’t even in there when it all happened. I sent you in there for nothing and you were hurt on my account,” he breathed before continuing, "I got to you as fast as I could. You were under quite a bit of the wreckage. I was— I was _so scared_.”

Liam’s voice trembled and the words filled Zayn with more pain than the wounds he withstood.

“Liam,” Zayn spoke softly, “I’m here and I’m okay, I’m _fine_. You think a couple of bricks could do me in, babe?”

Zayn’s attempts to appease the man’s sorrow fell short, Liam still looking dreadfully unconvinced.

“Look where you are, Zayn. You’ve got two crushed ribs, a fractured arm, your lungs are inflamed from all the smoke…”

“And yet, here I am, baby.”

Liam’s shoulders sagged as he stared at their conjoined hands and then back up to the smile Zayn wore loosely on his face. It was evident the man was still distraught, and perhaps placing much of the blame on himself for their current predicament, and Zayn would do everything in his power to keep Liam from assuming the worst. The truth of the matter was, Zayn was fine, albeit a bit bruised, but unshaken nevertheless. It was simply a more extreme consequence of the job he signed up for.

“I’m so sorry. I would’ve never sent you in there had I known the house was that unstable. I can’t tell you how it felt, waiting for you, hoping I’d see your eyes open again.”

“How long was I out?” Zayn asked.

“About a day and a half. You had to go into surgery so they could operate on your arm, practically reconstructed your elbow, but— they said you should be okay.”

“See? Part of the job, babe.” Zayn smiled, the internal relief flooding him as he considered how much worse his bodily damage could’ve been.

Liam shook his head before offering a small smile of his own, “Didn’t stop me from worrying myself sick. The thought of losing you,” he bit his lip, trying to temper his emotions.

“Li,” Zayn said, guiding his hand up to Liam’s arm and pulling him in close so that their foreheads touched.

Without declaring anything further, Zayn planted his lips firmly to Liam’s, and the man sighed into the kiss, melting into the contact and everything around them faded away. It had become something of a natural art for the two of them, their physicality blending perfectly, creating a language the two of them understood so that they could leave the world behind. The kiss sealed Zayn’s feelings and fate, a message conveyed to Liam of his steadfast resolution, _I’m not going anywhere._

*****

“So the whole lot's got it figured out then?” Zayn asked Horan who now occupied his bedside.

Zayn had been cleared to leave in the morning with Liam refusing to leave his side, not even to go home and change out of the LFB t-shirt and sweatpants he’d been wearing. Niall came about an hour prior, bringing along a fresh hooded sweatshirt for the captain and a card signed by the whole station for Zayn. Liam was currently asleep on the small couch in the corner of Zayn’s room, giving the two men still awake an opportunity to discuss the details of everything that had recently come to light.

“Afraid so,” Horan replied, “Liam was so upset it made it clear enough. We all waited in the waiting room until we heard you’d be okay, sat through the surgery and everything. Samuels really has himself riled up, no thanks to your man over there going ballistic on the poor sod.”

And Zayn knew he’d have to circle back to that thought, but right now, there were more pressing concerns that needed addressing.

“And the chief’s—”

“Choosing to turn a blind eye… _for now_. Probably wants to wait and see how you’re doing before getting himself into all the bureaucratic nonsense. Plus, I think the whole team’s a bit thrown by the sudden reveal of Cap’s, uh, alternative taste in sexual partners.”

“Christ,” Zayn said in a huff.

To say he was relieved was an understatement, but Zayn knew there was much to consider in the weeks and months to follow. The two men sat in silence, Horan had his arms crossed as he leaned back in the chair previously occupied by Liam, with his feet propped up on Zayn’s bed. The hour was growing late, but the Irishman indubitably used his charm to chat up the right nurses who’d allowed him to exceed the allotted time for multiple visitors. Zayn was appreciative of the calming friendly presence, one that drew a significant contrast to the hectic encounter he had with Louis just a couple of hours earlier. Zayn could only handle so much of his friend’s ostentatious energy in one sitting before he began deliberating the cost of breaking his other arm to get himself back in surgery and into a quiet, undisturbed state of drug-induced bliss.

Horan turned to look at Liam’s sleeping figure and sighed, “He hasn’t left here once since you were brought in, you know,” Horan stated.

Zayn nodded. He believed it, with the way Liam had been so protective of him as the doctors ran all their tests after he awoke, he knew how distraught Liam was through all of this.

“He’ll never stop blaming himself, will he?” Zayn asked defeatedly.

Horan shrugged, “He’s the captain, Malik. It’s not just a matter of who you are to him, he’s always going to look after his men. Or die trying. He holds himself in that regard.”

“I know, I just wish he wouldn’t— not when it comes to me,” Zayn said as he stared at the man in a peaceful slumber.

“If you get cleared for duty,” Horan started cautiously, “I don’t know if he’ll ever fully accept you being back there, let alone on the engine again.”

Zayn scoffed, “What, you think he’s gonna try and stop me?”

“It’s not that. Look, you have a choice here, Malik. You can come back, if that’s really what you want, but it has to be a risk you’re willing to take.”

Zayn was trying to understand what the man was implying, but the ominous ambiguity of his tone didn’t settle any of his worries.

“He’s my best mate. I don’t think he’d be able to live with himself if he had you back under his command willingly, but I also know he’d never expect you to give this up, he’s got too good a heart to keep you from this, if it’s what you love,” Horan explained.

Zayn and Liam had only talked briefly about what their jobs would look like going forward in the few moments they had between the influx of people coming and going from his room. He thought back to what Liam had said, that if having Zayn meant sacrificing his rank, he’d do it without a second thought. He needed not a second to decide he’d never ask Liam to do that for him. It wasn’t just the action or the glory that came with being a firefighter that prompted Liam to wake up and go to his job at some ungodly hours, it was the genuine love he had for helping people, no matter the capacity it extended. Zayn would never in a million years ask Liam to give that up.

“He offered to move over to the academy, take a job as a training officer.”

Horan’s eyes widened at the revelation before he shook his head, “Fucking hell, Payne. Of course he did.”

“I would never ask that of him, Niall. I hope you know that. I love this job but— this is Liam’s life,” Zayn said and the man beside him smiled in gratitude.

“Besides,” Zayn continued, “who’s to say I’ll be cleared? The doctor said the mobility in my arm could be too severely limited. Maybe it’s time I look on elsewhere,” Zayn reasoned, trying to maintain a light and unaffected tone.

It hurt him having to admit a sacrifice was possibly imminent. This had become a life Zayn was fond of, whether or not it met the diameter of his morbid desires. But Zayn had well established himself in where he was, in a life that hardly tormented him. He hadn’t found a purpose to run, a need to escape when the adversity became too apparent to handle.

“I’ve never seen him like this before with anyone,” Horan stated, “I hate to jump the gun here, but, I think you’re it for him, Malik.”

Zayn smiled, nodding carefully and his heart swelled. Knowing the fact was one thing, hearing it come from someone who cared for Liam just as much as he did made the actuality of the matter settle its weight into Zayn’s being. This was good enough for him, although lacking in the active thrills that provided him his rush of dopamine. While he did sport a fractured arm and ribs threatening to puncture his internal organs, Zayn was content. He had a man who’d happily give him the world if he asked and a heart that was in safekeeping. And when Liam carefully wheeled Zayn out of the hospital the next day, Zayn could feel the certainty of an impending new beginning for them both.

“You ready, love?” Liam asked as he got into the driver’s side of the car.

Zayn pushed trilled air through his lips and turned to the man beside him giving him an expectant look, “Let’s do it, Cap,” Zayn said with a smirk.

Liam smiled and leaned over, planting a reaffirming kiss on Zayn’s cheek, “Let’s go home.”

* * *

** _EIGHT YEARS LATER_ **

“There’s no reason Ms. Davids should still be in the A and E, she’s been stabilized. I expect to see her moved to the ICU within the next ten minutes, got that?” Zayn asked the frenetic nurse standing in front of him, her eyes wide and pondering.

With a curt nod in acknowledgment, she was off and Zayn sighed, leaning against the counter where he had another stack of patient forms to get through. The heat cultivating in his burgundy scrubs had him feeling much too constricted for his liking. It was yet another unusually warm day for the city of London, civilians were being admitted in hoards due to heat exhaustion and dehydration, and Zayn quite frankly had enough. Just as he began making the tiresome journey over to the break room to rejuvenate himself with a fourth bottle of water, he stopped in his tracks, his eyes landing on the familiar faces walking through the automated doors of the hospital’s entrance and his heart rate quickened. 

“Niall,” he stated dubiously, “What the hell are you doing with my baby?”

“Baba!” The young boy on the firefighter’s shoulders whined, “I’m almost five. I’m not a baby!”

Zayn raised his eyebrows, “Amir, you will always be my baby even when you’re a big boy,” he said as he extended his arms, letting the blonde man hand the boy over.

“What are you doing here?” Zayn turned to Niall expectantly, awaiting the explanation for why his son was here mid-shift rather than in a school where he should be.

“Had a couple of calls coming in from his school. The teachers were dropping like flies, mate. Had to send everyone home due to the heat and _your son_ here insisted we take him with us,” Niall explained, turning his attention to the little boy before tickling him. Amir screeched and buried his face into Zayn’s neck and the man smiled.

“Daddy let me sit next to him in the big red truck, Baba,” Amir attempted to whisper into Zayn’s ear, but failed adorably as his voice was laced with too much enthused excitement.

“Oh he did, did he?” Zayn said loudly when he noticed the other men coming up behind Niall. His eyes landed on the beautiful man bounding towards them, the crinkles on his face a bit more pronounced than they had been when he first met the captain, but still so wonderfully _Liam._

“Now what part of ‘our little secret’ didn’t you understand, young man?” Liam asked with his hands on his hips, the look of faux seriousness causing Amir to squirm before Zayn set him back on the ground.

“Hello darling,” Liam smiled before giving Zayn a peck to his lips, to which he happily returned with a slight shake of his head.

“A nurse and a firefighter, who would’ve thought the two of you a convention,” Samuels quipped from where he stood beside Horan.

Zayn squinted, “Associate specialist in emergency medicine, fuck you very much Samuels,” Zayn chided, protecting his son’s ears from the obscenity.

“Alright, back to the rig the lot of you,” Liam ushered the men away before sending his husband an apologetic look.

“I’m really sorry to have to do this but I couldn’t bring him with me to the station, not with all these calls we’re getting today.”

“It’s fine, Li,” Zayn said before turning his attention back to the wide-eyed boy standing in between the two of them, “You want to go play with Rosie at child watch, love?” Zayn asked and Amir nodded frantically.

“Guess that takes care of that,” Liam laughed before scooping up their son, “Auntie Ruth will be here to get you in half an hour, okay? Will you be good for baba?”

Their son nodded and gave Liam a small kiss and Zayn mouthed a ‘thank you’ to his husband. There had been far too many instances where the staff at the hospital’s child-watch center had to stay well past their allotted times to look after the rowdy boy as Zayn finished his rounds. Amir having two full-time working parents was no easy feat, but both Zayn and Liam’s family offered their unconditional help and support upon their son’s arrival nearly five years ago. With Zayn’s younger sister and both of Liam’s sisters moving to the city within the last three years, it had made their busy lives remarkably more feasible. Zayn summoned Amir's favorite nurse, Marie, over to escort their son to the center, sending the boy off with a kiss to his chestnut brown hair and a spirited “ _Khuda hafiz, mera bacha!”_ and the child ran off ahead of the nurse with nothing more than a wave in return.

Zayn rolled his eyes keenly before tending to the man who had his arms wrapped around Zayn’s waist from behind.

“You’re off at 7?” Liam asked before turning Zayn around.

“Unfortunately,” Zayn huffed.

Liam smiled sympathetically, “Long day then?”

“These people wouldn’t know real heat if it came hurling at them.”

Before Liam could confer a reply, the beeping of his radio alerted them both to an incoming dispatch. He responded to the call quickly and looked to Zayn in earnest.

“Go on, Captain, make ‘em proud,” Zayn ordered as he moved to kiss Liam once more before the captain began his retreat.

“I’ll see you at home. I’m cooking!” Liam called out and then he was gone, Zayn smiling fondly as he watched the engine take off in a dash.

And back to saving lives, Zayn went.

*****

“You’ll never guess what your son shared with me when I got home.”

“That’s never a good sign,” Zayn replied.

The two of them were sat in bed, Liam mindlessly rubbing Zayn’s ankles as the television droned on in the background. The hour had grown rather late, something they were both accustomed to on their nights off. Amir had gone down hours ago, completely satiated by the spaghetti dinner Liam made and a warm bath to go with it. Now it was just Zayn and Liam, in their limited moments of peace and the sole comfort of each other’s presence. Zayn listened to his husband calmly, letting the soft lull of his voice as he explained all the calls of his last shift placate him into a tranquil state.

“He told me he wants to be a soldier when he grows up, like his _daddy_ and _baba,_ ” Liam explained, chuckling at a surprised Zayn.

“My God, and here I thought him becoming a firefighter would be the pinnacle of my concerns as a doting father,” Zayn said sarcastically before the full realization of what Liam had just said set in, “wait, I’ve never told him about my time in the army, did you?” Zayn asked, giving Liam an inquisitive look.

“Apparently one of the older kids at his school noticed your tags when you dropped him off the other day and explained to Amir that people only wear those when they’ve ‘been in a war’,” he said, using air quotes.

“And then what— you explained to a four-year-old the logistics of an international deployment for the British Armed Forces?” Zayn asked bemused.

Liam laughed and pinched Zayn’s leg, “Something like that.”

“Amir a soldier? God, save us all,” Zayn said, situating himself under Liam’s waiting arm.

Liam buried his face into Zayn’s hair and the two sat in comfortable silence before Liam spoke up again.

“They offered me chief today.”

And Zayn gasped, sitting up the moment the words resonated with him. His eyes grew wide as he stared at his annoyingly languid husband. He couldn’t believe how nonchalant Liam was being about a milestone he’d been aiming for, for _years_ now. Liam smiled softly as he grabbed hold of Zayn’s hands.

“Liam, oh my god, that’s—that’s _massive_.”Zayn was astonished, never having felt this type of pride for the man lying before him right now, who had accomplished so much in his life and never ceased to amaze Zayn with how much passion the man had for all that he did, all that he was, _all that he loved_.

“I would’ve said something earlier, but, I wanted it to be just the two of us.”

Zayn nodded, ignoring the tears welling up in his eyes and he moved to straddle Liam, pulling the man close and Liam melted into the embrace, sighing as he buried his face into Zayn’s chest.

“I’m so proud of you, babe,” Zayn whispered and let the man tighten his grip around him to flip them over so Liam hovered over him.

Assuming the role of fire chief would mean Liam no longer had to be the one running into the burning buildings. It meant the risk of their son growing up without his father was eradicated. It meant Zayn’s heart would no longer constrict every time Liam kissed him goodbye every morning he awoke next to him. And he couldn’t lie, the increased salary wouldn’t hurt either, not when it meant Amir had the freedom to choose whichever university, near or far, that his heart desired.

Zayn gaped up at his husband of six years and everything made sense. His past, his present, his future, sealed by the man who smiled down to him with the same warm eyes he saw in the boy gently snoring just a room away. There was nothing left to ask for, every stone unturned, every unbefitting desire that worked tirelessly to break apart Zayn piece by piece demolished. He belonged next to Liam, and it’s where he planned to stay. He kissed Liam with a gentle fervor interwoven with the way they moved their lips, silently offering Liam his words of praise, triumph, gratification, and everything else he chose to convey in this one, beautiful moment.

Liam pulled back before looking at Zayn intently, a begging question evidently on the forefront of his mind, “So does this mean we can finally discuss having another baby?”

And Zayn laughed, nothing else more certain than loving this man to his last breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, at the end of a long [tiresome] journey. I hope you all enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed conceiving and writing it. I'd love to know if you have any questions, thoughts, comments, etc. on the progression of the story. As I shared in the opening notes, this was a fic concept I began over a year ago; I wrote the outline and the first two chapters back in mid-2019 and only just got the inspiration to revamp it at the beginning of this year. While I did steer from the original storyline I had planned just a bit, it ultimately ended up where I wanted it to go. Here are a few tidbits of fun facts about the fic if you're at all interested:
> 
> Some details of the calls/instances at the station were inspired by real-life occurrences that my parents faced during their time in the fire service. (Thanks mom for letting me pick your brain.)
> 
> Two things inspired the conversation that Zayn had with Liam in the flashback bit: (1) The opening lines of Zayn's song 'Calamity' helped me come up with the main idea of the scene, and what Zayn felt as he went through the photos. (2) There is a character in the NBC show 'Parenthood' [one of my all-time favorite shows] who was struggling with his readjustment to life back in the states after being deployed to Afghanistan. In one scene, when he's deliberating reenlisting, he shares with his veteran mentor why he felt compelled to stay in Afghanistan rather than resituate himself in life back home. That conversation really inspired me to write Zayn's character the way I did-- the way he never felt content without the chaos of scorned circumstances around him. 
> 
> I was initially going to make this story very heavy on the 'secret relationship' front, where a lot of their time together would be sneaking around behind the chief's back until they finally got caught. But my dramatic self chose to divulge in the madness of being a firefighter a bit more, rather than ending it with them being found out (you're welcome, I think?). 
> 
> Lastly, I wrote this fic because...we need more gay firefighter content, I mean let's be real, y'all. It's still a very male-dominant profession to this day (hence why it was such a male-centric fic) and if that's the case, then leave it to me to make it a lil gay.


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